


Screw First Gear

by Dresupi



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Crossover Pairings, Darcy talks a lot, Developing Relationship, F/M, First Date, Happy Ending, Infertility, Jealousy, Logan is hard to read, Marriage Proposal, Meet-Cute, Moving In Together, OOC Jean Grey, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Smut in every chapter, Strip Tease, Wall Sex, crackship, pulling out, relationship angst, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5001406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy gets dared by her friends to go ask out a random guy at a bar.  That random guy is Logan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shifting Gears

**Author's Note:**

> A compilation of a few prompts I received on Tumblr: 
> 
> -So my friends dared me to ask a random person out on a date and the person I asked actually said yes wth do I do?!  
> and  
> -I know you don’t know me, and I definitely don’t know you, but you really suck at riding this bike so I’ll teach you how to ride right now to save you future embarrassment
> 
> And then I added smut. As is my way. ;) 
> 
> Enjoy!

“So…anyway…yeah…I guess I’m just wondering if you’d like to go out sometime…kaythanksbye…” Darcy didn’t look again at his bewildered expression because she was up off that barstool like her ass was on fire.  She crossed quickly back to her table, her face red as a beet and unable to look her stupid giggling friends in the eye.

“Smooth one, Darce…” Jane swatted her arm and laid her head down on the table, her shoulders shaking with laughter. 

“Did you even give him time to respond?” asked Alice, who for her part was trying and failing to hide her own mirth. 

“No.  I didn’t want to force him to have to be polite to my stupid ass…” Darcy hid her head in her hands, “You guys suck.  He was cute, too.” 

Jane and Alice clammed up pretty quickly, looking at something over her shoulder. 

She felt something tap her arm, she glanced over to see a rather large hand holding out a piece of torn napkin towards her.  She followed the arm up to the face and balked because it was the guy she’d asked out a few minutes before. 

He was tall.  Taller than he looked, hunched over that beer at the counter earlier.  He smelled like leather, sweat and cigars.  She thought she’d seen him smoking one before.   

He cleared his throat, setting his gaze on her.  Dark eyes that both scared and excited her. 

“Name’s Logan…” he paused for a second. 

“D-Darcy…” she supplied. 

“Darcy…” he said slowly, as if allowing the word to soak in. He tapped her arm again with the napkin scrap in his hand. 

She took it from him, glancing down at the scrawled phone number on it. 

“If you want…” he said quietly, turning to nod at Alice and Jane before leaving. 

They all watched him leave, watched him grab a leather jacket from a hook by the door and shrug it on as he exited the bar. 

“I think…I think that was a yes…” Alice said with a smirk. 

“Yeah…well…maybe I don’t want to date him…” 

Jane laughed, “Right.  Jesus, Darcy.  You should have more fun.  And he looks like more fun.” 

“So you should have HIM…” Alice giggled. 

Darcy rolled her eyes. 

* * *

**A few days later...**

She shifted her weight back and forth nervously, wrapping her arms around her waist.  She checked her watch again.

Five minutes after three.  She’d asked him to meet her at this coffee place at three. 

 _God, I’m going to get stood up.  Stood the fuck up and_ —

The sound of a motorcycle rumbling deterred her thoughts for the moment, as she watched Logan pull up directly onto the sidewalk. 

She didn’t know whether she should approach him or not…he was pulling out a lock and locking it to the street post.  He pulled off the license plate and jammed it in his back pocket before he turned and walked over to her. 

He looked different in the light of day.  Not a bad different…just…different.  He wasn’t so mysterious, pulling off his aviator shades so he could look down at her.  Down at her from up where he was, in the tall person stratosphere.   

He attempted a smile and she could appreciate that.  Even if it did amount to little more than him pressing his lips together in a line.

He nodded once, “Hi.” 

She grinned widely, “Hi, Logan.” 

The corners of his mouth twitched upward into an actual real smile, and he slid his sunglasses onto the front of his shirt.  Black cotton t-shirt, it looked like.

She’d asked him to meet her here in this coffee shop, which, she could see now, was going to be weird because he did not fit in here at all.  The inside was filled with douche-bag hipsters and pretentious English professor-types.  And here he was in a leather jacket and blue jeans that God himself sewed onto him…by the looks of them, anyway.   

Logan was going to stick out like a sore thumb. 

And ten bucks said he was going to order black coffee. And balk that he’d have to choose what level of roast he wanted. 

He held the door for her while she went in, walking up to the counter with purpose. 

She could sense him right behind her.  He still smelled like leather, most likely the jacket.  But there was no cigar smell and a hint of soap…Ivory perhaps? 

She smiled again, pulling out her wallet to order her drink.  Iced caramel mocha with extra whipped cream. 

She half expected him to insist on paying for her, but he didn’t. 

And while he DID order black coffee, he knew enough to ask for the house roast and to tip the barista. 

_Okay, so I feel like an ass now…_

They sat on a couch in the back.  He didn’t talk much, but he sure as hell listened to her talk for an hour.  He answered her questions about himself, not offering up any more information than what the question implied. 

It was over far too soon for her liking, and she found herself standing beside him while he pulled the cover off his bike.

“This isn’t really your thing, is it, Logan?” she asked, slurping on her ice. 

He shook his head, “Not really.” He flipped the numbers on the bike lock and stashed it back in the bag with the cover.    

“What IS your thing? What would you rather be doing?” 

“Are YOU with me?” he asked. 

“Yeah.  I’m with you and we’re doing whatever you want.  What is it?” she bit her lip playfully. 

_Dangerous question, Lewis._

He smirked, “I’d like to take you for a ride on my bike.” 

“Is that a euphemism?” 

“No.” 

“Oh…” 

“It’s hard to balance on a bike seat. I’d take ya back to my place for that,” his voice dropped lower for the last part, impossibly low. 

Her face was hot, she fought the urge to fan herself. 

He coughed, leaning down to reattach his license plate.  “So…Is there gonna be a next time?” 

“Uh…yeah…yeah, there…I’d like…a next time.” 

“I’ll pick ya up, we’ll go for a ride, then…if you want.” 

Clinging to him on the back of this vibrating monster?  Yes please. 

“Yeah, that sounds…yeah.” 

He stood and walked closer to her, reaching out, stroking her cheek and moving her hair.  His hand reappeared on her chin, tilting it up until she was looking into his eyes.  He hesitated, and she realized that this was him asking permission.  She nodded faintly and exhaled when his lips pressed against hers.  Nothing gentle about it.  Not aggressive either, but it was what it was.  It was Logan kissing her. Her stomach swooped and knotted.  He moved his lips against hers firmly.  He grunted when she swept the tip of her tongue over his lips.  He ended the kiss, lingering close and swiping his thumb over her bottom lip.  “I’ll call ya,” he said, his voice gravelly.  

All she could do was nod.

And he was climbing on his bike and revving it, driving slowly down the sidewalk until he could merge back into traffic. 

Leaving her here to melt into a puddle on the sidewalk.

* * *

**A couple of weeks later...**

“So what’d you think of the movie?” Darcy asked, wrapping her arms around her waist as they walked out of the movie theater. 

“Ya didn’t say it was a comedy…” Logan answered.

She grinned, “You got that? Most people just think ‘Dead Alive’ is a really bad zombie movie…what did you think?”

“Impractical…but entertaining.” 

“Why impractical?” she looked up at him. 

He quirked an eyebrow, “A lawnmower? That couldn’t chop up all those dead bodies.” 

She chuckled, “Well…yeah.  That’s impractical…” She glanced up at him again, he was looking straight ahead, both hands in his pockets.

Logan Howlett was definitely not a touchy-feely person.  She could count on one hand the number of times he’d engaged in PDA.  Or just…DA if she was being honest. 

The wind picked up, the cold air cutting right through the sweater she’d foolishly thought would be warm enough. 

She clamped her teeth together to keep them from chattering. 

She looked up at him again to catch him looking at her.  He waited a split second before shrugging off his leather jacket. 

She tried to protest when he draped it over her shoulders, but it was so warm, she couldn’t sound convincing.  She slid her arms through the sleeves.  It swallowed her whole, but it was his, and it smelled like him.  And to be honest, it was probably the closest thing to cuddling she was going to get. 

They had arrived at his bike, and he was busying himself uncovering it and putting the license plate back on.  He climbed on and started it, revving it loudly. 

He looked over his shoulder at her expectantly, and she climbed on behind him. 

This was her favorite part.  Wrapped around his back, pressed against his body, the large hunk of metal vibrating between her legs. She definitely got more action from the bike than she did from Logan. 

She’d gotten basically no action from Logan. 

He’d kissed her.  Quite a few times.  And some of them were rather heated.  But he’d never asked her back to his place, and he never took her up on her requests to come in for coffee after their dates. 

He pulled up in front of her apartment a little too soon for her tastes.  She’d been hoping for a few more red lights or something. 

She got off the bike and shrugged off his jacket, holding it out to him.

He pulled it back on while he walked her to her door.

“Hey…so…is there like…anyway you could…teach me how to ride?” she asked, jutting her head back towards his bike. 

He raised his eyebrows, “Yeah.”

“I mean…if you want.  It’s just a suggestion really.  Like, if you don’t want me messing up your baby or anything…I’d understand.  Like…it’s just an idea.  You know…just…” she snapped her mouth shut.  She was starting to babble. 

He reached out to brush his fingertips against her shoulder, “I don’t mind.” 

“Oh…okay, cool!” she said brightly.

He turned abruptly away from her front door, which confused her a little.  Everything he did was confusing.  He looked back at her, “Might wanna wear something warm.” 

“Oh…we’re gonna do this…now?  Okay…yeah…warm…okay…” she fumbled with her keys and went inside, shucking off her useless sweater and grabbing her fleece hoodie and a wool beanie. 

She emerged from her apartment to see him out waiting beside his bike.

“Okay, so have you driven a manual transmission vehicle before?” he asked abruptly.

She nodded, “Yeah...is this like that?” 

“No.  But, you’re familiar with the concept of a clutch and shifting gears?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

A quick description of where everything was on the bike had her mind spinning a little.  Because fuck, there was a lot of crap to do in order to make this bike move.  Hands, feet, everything was engaged. 

After an hour of trying to get the stupid thing out of first, she was ready to cry or give up, or both. 

And he was kind of not the best teacher.  Not that he was mean or anything, but he was blunt to a fault. 

“Darcy…Darcy…switch out of first now.  Switch out of first…no…no…that’s the brake…” 

She stopped the bike and put her foot down to steady herself.  “Kay, I’m done.  I’m done.  This is…I’m done…” 

He took the bike from her and parked it, and she stood on the sidewalk, lips pursed to keep from crying. 

“You’re really bad at this.” 

“Thanks,” she spat, looking down at the sidewalk. 

He was quiet, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.  “If you still wanna learn, we can…” 

“No, I don’t want to learn.”  

“Okay,” he said simply.  He was so fucking hard to read.  She couldn’t tell if he was angry, disappointed…he always looked indifferent.  And someone would have to work pretty damn hard to be that indifferent all the time.  To literally not care about anything. 

She sighed in exasperation. “What is your deal, Logan?” 

He frowned. 

“I mean…why are you still here?” 

“Because you wanted to learn to ride…” 

“No.  I mean…here.  With me.  Why are we still doing this?  I don’t mean to sound lame or anything, but where is this going?  This…thing with us?” 

He didn’t say anything. 

“Because…I’ve asked you in for coffee like…forty thousand times.” 

His expression changed from indifferent to incredulous with the tiniest twitch of an eyebrow. 

“Okay, so…maybe I tend to err on the side of hyperbole…slightly…but…it still stands…I thought we’d have had sex by now.” 

“I didn’t know you wanted sex.” 

“I literally just said that I asked you in for coffee a LOT…what do women just…walk up to you and ask you to bang them?” 

He shrugged, “Usually.” 

“Oh my god, really?” 

He nodded. 

“Well…I’m not…comfortable doing that.” 

“It’s a clear sign of consent.” 

She huffed.  “So you expect me to tell you I want sex, even though you’ve rejected my advances before?” 

“I didn’t know they were advances.” 

She set her jaw.

“No one in their right mind would reject you.” 

She melted a little, because he was actually looking at her. Intensely.  In the eyes. 

“You rejected me forty thousand times.” 

“Ask me again.” 

“No.” 

He smirked, “Ask me again.” 

“No. I’m mad at you…” she folded her arms and turned away from him.

She squealed when she felt him scoop her up off the ground effortlessly and throw her over his shoulder. This…this was more on par with what she was expecting.  Raw, Neanderthal-like ACTION.  Her stomach swooped.  He had one hand on her ass, the other on the back of her thigh to keep her steady. 

Fuck, this was hot.  It was so hot.     

He walked up to the door, hand pausing on the door knob, “Ask me again.” 

“Do you want to come inside?”

“Yes, I do…” he opened the door and set her right again, pulling her close and pressing his lips firmly to hers as the door swung shut. 

It closed quietly behind them, and Darcy wound her arms around his neck, determined to show him a good time and not make an idiot out of herself.  Determined to stay cool.   

His lips pulled at hers expertly, and she was starting to see how much he had been holding back before.  If their previous kisses were heated, these were on fucking FIRE. 

His hands…Jesus Christ, his hands.

He yanked off her beanie, fingers carding through her hair.  He pulled her head back, exposing her neck, which he nipped and sucked until she was openly moaning. 

So much for being cool. 

“Bedroom?” he murmured, his tongue swirling around her earlobe. 

“Down the hall…door at the end…” she managed before he hiked her up on his front effortlessly.  She wrapped her legs around his waist and peppered kisses up his jaw while he took them there. 

She bounced back on the bed and immediately attacked his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders.  He took the hint and pulled his t-shirt off too. 

“Oh…fuck…” she reached out to drag her fingertips down from his well-defined pecs to his even more well-defined abs, tracing the veins that stood out on his skin.  “Fuck…you are gorgeous…” 

He sniffed, not quite hiding the smile that stretched across his lips momentarily.  He reached for the hem of her hoodie, pulling it slowly up over her head.  Her t-shirt half came with it, ending in a jumbled mess of clothing that had her swearing a lot before she finally worked herself free.

He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was grinning now.

“Shut up…” she smirked, tossing her rumpled clothing at his face.  He leaned forward to kiss her, his lips felt almost bruising.  In contrast to his hands, which were tracing around her bra and making her flesh erupt in goosebumps. 

“Yes, ma’am…” his lips were on her collarbone now. His stubble scraping against the sensitive skin there. 

She reached for his belt buckle, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. 

He was working very hard at distracting her, but she eventually got them unzipped.  She pushed them down his hips, and he stepped out of them, keeping his boxers on, though. 

She groaned, both out of frustration at NOT getting to see the goods, and because he was nuzzling her breasts. Well…that should be illegal.

His hand reached around popped the clasp of her bra, pulling it down and throwing it to the side. 

He cupped her breasts, kneeling down in front of her, his knees on the floor.  He leaned forward, taking one stiff nipple in his mouth, his gaze moving upwards, catching hers.  And it was so fucking hot she could barely stand it. 

“Logan…” she whispered. 

He grunted in reply, his hands leaving her breasts to work on the button and zip of her jeans. 

She shifted up slightly so he could pull them down. 

He released her breast, but didn’t break her gaze, tugging her jeans and panties off in one swift movement.    

_Naked in three minutes…damn…he’s good._

His calloused hands caressed her thighs.  His thumbs dipping down between them every so often. 

He raised up to his feet, placing his knee between hers to support his weight over her. 

And God, she knew he was tall, but she never really thought about just how fucking…BIG he was.  Broad shouldered, muscled, chiseled perfection. 

He dropped his head down to capture her lips again, so she took the opportunity to grab his ass and press his hips against hers.

He grunted again.

She was finally able to feel his erection and fuck…just…fuck… 

She bucked her hips up against him, desperate to feel him.  Desperate to know that this was mutual, this animalistic WANT that was bubbling deep inside her.  To know that HE wanted her as much as she wanted him. 

She bit on his bottom lip and he jumped a little in surprise, but he didn’t stop her. 

She tugged down on the waistband of his boxers and he let her.  He kicked them off, and his cock bounced against her.

Her breath was coming out ragged. 

She reached down to touch him.  Running her thumb up the vein on the underside. 

His cock was…big.  Not the longest she’d seen, but it was definitely the thickest.  Which was where it counted.   

He inhaled sharply, lowering his head to her shoulder as she started running her hand up and down the shaft.  The tip bumped into her hip as he bucked into her hand. 

“Darcy…” he murmured, his voice sounded strained.  Wrecked. 

She squirmed against him, so turned on by how he sounded, and the knowledge that SHE made him sound that way.    

She, Darcy ‘Lumpy Oatmeal’ Lewis, could make a man (and fuck, he was a MAN) like Logan whimper into her shoulder when she touched him.  She had so much power, and she had no idea what to do with it. 

She hummed softly, pressing kisses to his temple, rubbing his cock until he stopped her.    

 He grasped her hip, shifted his weight so he was more to one side.  The hand at her hip slid down between her legs, spreading her open and thumbing her clit. 

She arched towards him, a low moan punctuating the relative silence. 

He slid one finger inside her, his thumb still on her clit.  His breath hitched when she squeezed around him.

He pumped his hand slowly, his calloused thumb dragging against the bundle of nerves, drawing hoarse cries from her throat. 

He added a second, crooking them both slightly and speeding up the pace. 

The pressure built beneath his apparently VERY skilled fingers, the two inside her pulling in a ‘come hither’ motion.  His thumb circling her clit, rolling the sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure.  

His lips closed around one of her nipples, and she felt his tongue flicking fervently.

She couldn’t manage anything more than clinging to him, her hands buried in his hair.

Her walls clenched around his fingers, her hips bucking up to meet his hand.  She was right on the edge, just about to…

He rubbed her clit roughly with his thumb and she was gone. 

Clenching tight and finally releasing.

She gasped loudly, her hips bucking on their own, desperate to drag it out for as long as she could. 

She groaned at the loss when he slid his fingers out of her.  He disappeared from sight, only to reappear with a condom, which he rolled on quickly. 

“Sorry it wasn’t more, but I need you now…” he explained, his voice raspy and low.

What was he apologizing for? 

She leaned up to wrap her arms around his neck, kiss him, inhale his scent as he lined himself up.

He pressed forward, she felt a blunt pressure as he slid into her, stretching her around his hard cock.

He grunted, eyes closed as he slowly sheathed himself inside her. 

She squeezed around him appreciatively, causing his hips to buck and him to say her name again.  “Darcy…” he bit his lip as he started to slowly pull back, pressing forward again with a small amount of force. 

She wrapped her legs around his waist and he pulled both up them up into a seated position. 

She had a little more control here.  She could bounce on his lap.  Which he seemed to like. 

A lot. 

If that labored breathing was any indication. 

He grasped her hips and pulled her down with more force, startling a high pitched moan out of her as her clit rubbed against him. 

So much for him being a talker in bed…he was just as quiet if not more so. 

With the exception of a random grunt, or a whisper of her name, he was pretty silent. 

She took his lead, slamming down against his hips in a way that made the bed bang against the wall.  Her neighbors were going to love her after this. 

His eyes snapped open, dark and focused on her.  She felt like…prey.  Like he was going to eat her up and spit out her bones. 

“Fuck…” he groaned, lifting her and laying her down on her back, he grasped her legs behind the knees, pulling her to the edge of the bed.  He stood, leaned over her, and slid back in, setting a pace that fucking left her breathless. 

She finally knew the meaning of being pounded into the mattress.

She hung onto him to keep from being fucked all the way up the bed.  Because he wasn’t stopping, no sir.  And she didn’t want him to. 

The wicked slide of his full length inside her was mind-blowing.  Even with the condom, she could feel how hot he was, how his dick, smooth and hard as iron, felt inside her. The slight, but pleasurable stretch.  The way he went full in, balls to the wall, before pulling out and repeating.  The hitch in his breath when he was fully seated inside her.  His hands, one on her leg, under her knee, and one on the mattress, beside her head.  His eyes, how dark they were as they searched hers manically.  How he seemed to ease into the bruising rhythm.  How his mouth twitched when he got close. 

She didn’t last long.  The swift pace coupled with the way he was hitting her sweet spot, it all was too perfect.  She came apart, clenching him tightly and moaning his name. 

He followed her soon after, warning her first in a clipped tone.  “’Bout to…”

Biting his lip and thrusting shallowly into her through his release. 

He collapsed against her, somehow not crushing her beneath his sweaty, panting form.

When he was able, he pushed up off her, walking out to the bathroom, presumably to dispose of the condom. 

He was a sight for sore eyes, even in the low light. 

Damn.  His ass.

She somehow peeled herself up and slumped/crawled her way up her bed, pulling down the blankets so she could get under them. 

 She heard the water running.  Heard the toilet flush.  Heard his footsteps and the scratchy sound as he scratched his head. 

“Will you stay?” she asked quietly. 

He was quiet for a moment.  “If you want me to.” 

“I want you to…”

His mouth twitched upward for a split second and he was crawling under the covers with her.  His spicy, masculine scent mixing with the lilac scent of her fabric softener. 

They lay there beside each other for a few minutes, before he slid his arm under her body, tugging her close to him, so her head lay on his chest. 

She curled into his side happily. 

“Who’da guessed you’d be a snuggler?” she teased, her eyelids drooping. 

He kissed her forehead, stroking the back of her head.  “Not me, Darlin’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://dresupi.tumblr.com)
> 
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> Comments are ALWAYS appreciated! <3


	2. Ease Off the Brakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiniest bit of Jealous!Logan here...trying to bring in a little of that feral, territorial side of Logan without it being too much in a no powers AU. Hope I did alright here. 
> 
> I just really think they'd benefit from more communication. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd.

At the rumbling of a passing motorcycle, Darcy checked out her window.  Not Logan yet, just some dentist who lived up the street.  She was constantly mistaking Dr. Seymore for her boyfriend.  Her completely unreliable, would-be-booty-call-if-he-ever-actually-called-before-showing-up boyfriend. 

She sighed and walked away from the window, resigning herself to another night of Netflix and nil.  She honestly didn’t know why she bothered with Logan. 

Well…she did.  He was ripped and completely gorgeous and treated her like a queen when he was with her.  But he didn’t really believe in checking his text messages or answering his phone.  Or using it to let her know what his plans were. 

He’d just show up, sometimes she was busy.  Sometimes she wasn’t. 

When she wasn’t, he’d take her places.  Out to eat dinner. To the movies. 

She had fun.  Even if he was kind of quiet and broody most of the time. 

And the sex was…damn.  There was no other way to describe it.  He REALLY knew his way around her set up, she never had to redirect his attention.  He knew the difference between “stuffing a chicken” and “summoning a genie”.  He ate pussy like a pro.  He even spent the night after and cuddled.  She had zero complaints about that aspect of their relationship. 

Absolutely zero. 

It was THIS part.  The whole…time apart deal.  Not that she wanted to be around him 24/7 or anything.  But she’d really like to know how to get in touch with him.  It wasn’t like she wanted to talk to him a lot or whatever. 

She wasn’t high maintenance.  Well…compared to Logan, maybe she was.  Because she had a sneaking suspicion that he was seeing someone else on the side.  Or maybe she was the chick on the side.  Or something…

And she wasn’t really the jealous type either.  Unless someone was trying to hide something from her.  Or lie.  She hated it when guys lied, she hated it when they hid things. 

He didn’t act like he was hiding anything. Other than the refusal to contact her outside of showing up at her door.  Maybe he wasn’t...  Maybe he was just a flake. 

More rumbling outside made her heart start to scamper around her chest like a rogue bunny.  She took deep breaths to calm down because it was probably just Dr. Seymore on his way back from whatever menial errand Mrs. Seymore had sent him out on.  Dude jumped on his Harley to get trash bags like he was Daryl Dixon on the run from a horde of zombies.  Which is to say, he acted way more badass than a Long Island dentist should.

When the rumbling slowed in front of her house, she let herself get a little more excited.  Let that bunny run a little more. 

The knock on the door cinched it, and she tried not to barrel towards it like she was dying of thirst.  Which she was.  Even though they’d just gone out three nights ago, which culminated in sex so fucking good she couldn’t walk the next day without feeling it in her thighs.  It was all she could do not to wrap her legs around him the second she opened the door.  Might as well mimic some sort of propriety?  Right? 

He was standing there when she opened the door.  Weight shifted back on his hip.  His usual uniform of a black t-shirt and jeans.  Motorcycle boots and that fucking leather jacket.  He smelled like a…man.  Motor oil and Old Spice.  Ivory soap and Barbesol. Tobacco and cedar.  No, he smelled like a fucking lumberjack and she loved it. 

“You busy?” he asked. 

She shook her head, “Nope.” 

“Go for a ride?” he nodded towards his bike. 

“Lemme get my coat.” 

She grabbed it off the hook behind the door along with her wallet and keys.  She doubted she’d need it other than to prove she was old enough to order beer. He’d gradually started paying for everything.  Not that she’d minded going Dutch, but it was kind of refreshing.  Usually guys would pay for her at the beginning, and then that would slowly taper off.  This was the exact opposite.  They were on date thirteen and he was paying for her beer and her greasy cheeseburgers and he’d even bought her tampons once. 

She’d been at home, curled up on the couch, but she would have PAID MONEY to see Logan walk into drug store and buy her some Tampax and a Snickers bar.  Tampax was not her usual brand, but she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  She had only jokingly asked him in the first place, getting prepared to go up on her own and come back to an empty apartment. 

Just another way he was surprising.

He bought her tampons, but he never used a phone. 

How was Darcy supposed to ask him to do that? 

_Hey, I know you’re completely amazing 95% of the time, but that 5% is really starting to get on my fucking nerves.  Could you please answer me when I text you?  I don’t do it that often.  And maybe call to schedule dates?  I know you buy me tampons and let me come first, but…you know…the phone thing…_

She followed him out to his bike, sliding on behind him as he revved the engine.

* * *

She stomped up her porch steps, her feet smacking on the pavement.  Well…slightly stomped.  She wasn’t even sure Logan noticed that she was stomping.  He probably didn’t. 

 _The fucking…_ she struggled to come up with a suitable epitaph and came up short, backtracking and settling on: _the fucker…_

She fumbled with her keys, dropping them on the sidewalk. 

“FUCK!” she shouted into the sky before stooping to pick them up again. 

“LANGUAGE!” Her upstairs neighbor yelled from his open window. 

“SHUT YOUR DAMN WINDOW, ROGERS!” was her reply, eternally fed up with men of every size, shape and variety.   

Logan was silent during this exchange.  Not a huge shocker there.  He was silent ALMOST always.  Except when he felt the need to exert his masculinity over certain situations that SHE was completely capable of handling WITHOUT him. 

She finally got the door open and stomped into her entryway.  She yanked off her beanie and wrestled with her coat, finally accepting Logan’s help in taking it off.  She kicked off her shoes and made a bee-line for the couch. 

She sat down and picked up the remote, clicking quickly through the succession of movies on Netflix, not really looking at any of them. 

Presently, he joined her, the couch squeaking slightly when he sat down.  He had his arm up on the back of it, probably expecting her to scoot in beside him like she usually did. 

_Fat chance, Bub._

He didn’t say anything.  No “What is wrong?” No “Tell me why you’re upset,” Not even a “What now?”

Logan Howlett never spoke first.  He’d always sit there, with that infuriatingly neutral expression, not mad, not sad, not even upset.  Never any emotion whatsoever.  He’d sit there, all Switzerland, and wait for her to tell him whatever it was that was bothering her.  And then his eyebrow would twitch and he’d finally say something.  Really low, so she had to lean in.  And THAT was the most obnoxious thing.  That THING he’d say, would fix whatever it was, and they’d be fucking each other in the hallway before she could process the argument. 

That WASN’T going to work this time.  

Because, honestly…she didn’t even know why she was mad.  And if SHE didn’t know why she was mad, he sure as hell couldn’t fix it.  Ha.  Boo-yah, Switzerland.  Gotta suit up and join the war now. 

She put the remote down between them on the couch without picking anything.  She could have put on Doctor Who, which he hated, but she didn’t want him packing up without having it out with him first.  There was NO WAY what happened was going to slide.  No fucking way. 

And still nothing.  No response from him at all. 

It was fucking infuriating. 

“What the fuck was that earlier?” she asked, spitting out the word _fuck_ like it tasted bad.  She turned to look at him, catching his gaze and holding it.  

“What was what?” he asked.  Responding to a question with another question was a pet peeve of hers. 

“You know damn well what…” she glowered.  “All that machismo shit with that guy…” 

“What guy?  The one molesting you?” 

“Yeah. That’s the one…” she quipped. 

He shrugged, “He grabbed your ass, you asked him to stop.  He didn’t.  So I asked him to stop.” 

“You grabbed him by his shirt and knocked him around.” 

His eyebrow twitched. 

“You think that I BELONG to you or something, Logan?  Is that what this is?” 

“No,” was his terse reply. 

“You think I’m not capable of taking care of myself? Is that it?” 

He shrugged again. 

“I am.  I took care of myself JUST fine before you came along.” 

“I’m sure ya did.” 

“So…what the fuck was that?” 

He looked over at her, his eyes revealing nothing, as per usual.  “I woulda done that for anyone.” 

And maybe Darcy was just two ticks past DONE, or maybe her hormones were being weird, or maybe what she said next WASN’T a passive aggressive masterpiece that would have made her mother proud, and really was a mature reaction to what Logan had just said…

“Oh.  Right.  So I’m just ANYONE now?  Great.  That answers my next question…” she snapped, crossing her legs and her arms. 

Maybe not…

She felt his hands on her shoulders, turning her towards him and for a minute, she thought he was going to try to kiss her or something.  Which would have been a mistake.  But he didn’t, he just squeezed her arms a little, his thumbs rubbing over the bare skin of her shoulders under the sleeves of her t-shirt.  “Okay…I really do like spending time with you, Darlin’, but I don’t play games.  I don’t have the time.  So if you need to say somethin’ or ask me somethin’, just spit it out.  Now.”

_Games?  You think I’m playing GAMES?  Fine, you want direct.  I’ll go right for the kill._

“Are you seeing someone else?” she blurted. 

The only inkling he gave that the question fazed him at all was a brief furrow of his brow.  “No,” he answered bluntly. 

_So much for a kill shot.  Shake it off, Lewis.  Try again.  Right for the throat._

“Why…don’t you answer my calls?” 

_Okay, so you’re really just flailing around at this point…_

“I’m at work.” 

“Every time I call?”

He shrugged. 

She groaned loudly, falling backwards on the couch melodramatically.  “You are SO frustrating!” 

“If I’m not here…or sleeping…I’m at work,” he said simply. 

She turned to stare at him.  “Are you serious?  You…you spend all your free time with me?” 

He shrugged again, not looking at her. 

_“I don’t play games, I don’t have the time…”_

 His words echoed in her ears.  “Are you for REAL?” 

He didn’t respond, simply crossed his arms in front of him, his face slowly starting to turn red.

She crawled over towards him, tugging at his forearm so she could tuck herself beside him.  He relented, still staring at the T.V screen in front of him.

“You’re embarrassed…I embarrassed you…” she poked at his stomach playfully, full well knowing he wasn’t ticklish anywhere.  He didn’t even act like he noticed, just stared at the Netflix menu on the T.V screen.  

“I’m just saying…” she leaned over close, bracing herself against him, her lips brushing against his neck in that way that made him shiver a little.  “If I knew that I was your only entertainment, I might have tried to be more entertaining…” she nipped at his earlobe and he huffed out something that might have been a laugh, might have been something else. Still not looking anywhere but at the television.  She was kind of thrilled that she got a reaction out of him, honestly.  “I’d hate it if you were bored…”     

He shifted down more on the seat, dragging his fingertips up her arm, over her shoulder to her neck and back down again.  She shivered, pushing herself up on her knees again.  His hands found her waist and she found herself in his lap, his lips pressed against hers and his hands roving up her thigh and back down again, squeezing her ass a little before moving back down her leg. 

She shifted in his lap until she was straddling him, she ran her palms up his jaw and into his hair.  He was staring intently into her eyes, closing them only briefly when she shifted in his lap. “M’never bored…” he murmured, his hands lingering high on her waist, rucking up the hem of her t-shirt. 

She peeled it off, tossing it aside, slipping out of his arms and standing to shimmy out of her jeans as well.

He watched her.  His eyes taking their time moving up and down her body. 

She kicked the jeans away and crawled back up onto his lap. His hands reappeared at her waist, his fingertips teasing around the lacey waistband of her thong, continuing down to cup her ass.  Logan was an ass man, for sure.  She’d had boob men, leg men, even on one WEIRD occasion, a ‘foot’ man…but Logan was DEFINITELY an ass man. 

Come to think of it, his little outburst at the bar earlier that evening probably WAS just a little bit of territory marking.  Not that it REALLY pissed her off or anything.  It HAD been nice to have him there once it was clear Mr. Grabby Hands wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. 

She kissed him, rocking her hips forward as she swiped her tongue into his mouth. 

He grunted, squeezing her ass a little more, digging his fingers in a little more, pulling her closer just a little more. 

“Thanks for that, though…” she whispered, “Back at the bar…I know I acted mad, but…” 

He tightened his hold, leaning to capture her lips again. 

He knew.  

Because she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be forming coherent thoughts.

She rocked her hips slowly against him, feeling his erection through his jeans. 

She tugged on the hem of his t-shirt, yanking it up and over his head.  His skin felt hot against hers.  She kept up the slow rhythm, feeling his thighs start to twitch. 

He either loved or hated being teased, she wasn’t entirely sure.  The outcome was always good, though. 

And for now, she got to watch him.  His hooded eyelids, hiding dark eyes that threatened to consume her, his lips, partially open, breath ragged. 

One of his hands left her hip, sliding up over her ribs to her breast, he pushed it up so that the nipple was just peeking over the lace, and that’s what he focused on.  His lips closed around it, tongue flicking over it and her bra. 

She was getting wet.  Wetter.  God, he was good. 

“Logan…” she gasped as his other hand followed suit on her other breast, thumb rubbing over lace and sensitive flesh. 

He switched sides every so often, keeping both nipples stiff and damp.  By the time he finally reached around to unhook her bra, she was groaning loudly at just a slight swipe of his tongue. 

He pressed kisses to her neck and stood suddenly, keeping her pressed against his front.  He turned, depositing her on the couch again as he undid his belt. The only thing he dropped was to his knees, though, tugging on her panties, pulling them off and burying his face between her legs. 

She cried out, something…not English.  A cross between his name and “Guh”. 

He propped her feet up on the couch, forcing her hips forward as he flicked his tongue around her clit.

She could barely think, all she could do was moan, curl her toes around the edge of the sofa cushion.  Give in to the delicious pressure of his tongue. 

His hand reappeared on her breast, alternately twisting and flicking her nipple, making damn sure it was never anything but stiff and pointy. 

He grunted against her, alternating the strokes of his tongue and pressing two fingers deep inside her. 

“Fuck!” her hips bucked up and his fingers crooked inside her, pressing that spot, the one that made all the dirty talk happen. 

The one that made her want his cock deep inside her.  Deep dick fucking her until she could barely stand.  Till her thighs were sore the next day and the slightest thought of him brought back muscle memories.

She moaned long and loud, so close to the edge that any more stimulation anywhere would have probably pushed her over. 

And he stopped.  He fucking stopped. 

She started to protest, but he hauled her on the floor, rolling her over so she was on all-fours.  She thought he was about to fuck her from behind, which she was fine with, so she leaned down, pushing her hips back towards him.  His tongue probed at her clit again, his breath hot against her fevered flesh. And her thighs shook and convulsed as her orgasm tore through her, his name muffled into the carpet. 

She heard the clanging of his belt as his jeans hit the floor and she reached lazily for the throw blanket she had on the back of the couch.  She might want to feel it in her thighs tomorrow, but she didn’t want rug burn on her knees. 

He was rolling on the condom when she looked back and he arched an eyebrow quizzically.  And he looked ten shades of wrecked, his mouth was wet with…HER, and his pupils were blown wide, not to mention he had his hand wrapped around his rock hard dick, and she probably would have laughed at the confused puppy look he was throwing her now, except she wanted that dick more than life itself. 

She licked her lips and pulled the blanket down off the couch, hurriedly pulling it under her knees as she felt him line himself up. 

He hesitated for just a moment, but she rocked back into him and that was all he needed, apparently. 

He slid into her with no issue, seating himself tightly inside her.  He stayed put for a moment, rubbing her ass cheek with his hand until she wiggled against him impatiently. 

He pulled back, rocking back into her with a groan that surprised her.  He usually wasn’t loud, but he was groaning like a porn star all of the sudden and it was fucking hot. 

She just went with it, fucking back against him, keeping with the rhythm he set.  He wasn’t hitting anything super great from this angle, but she wasn’t really looking for that right now, not after coming all over his face just a few minutes before. 

It still felt good though, and she was moaning with him, which just seemed to spur him on.  He sped up, the sound of him and of THEM, their flesh slapping together and her breathy cries were filling the room and he was just fucking her like his life depended on it.  And she was cursing the fact that he was behind her and she couldn’t see him let go.  

But hearing him was just as good and feeling him was better. 

“Darcy…” he blurted as his hips stuttered before he came back full force, slamming against her hips and riding out what felt like one hell of an orgasm. He slowed before he stopped completely.   

“Sorry…” he whispered, pulling out immediately. 

She whimpered a little at the loss, letting him roll her over and bury his face in her neck.

“Sorry…” he whispered again. 

“Sorry for what?” she asked, gulping for air. 

He didn’t answer, but he did collapse on top of her, rolling them over.  She curled into his side, kind of happy for an excuse to cuddle him. 

“Sorry for what?” she repeated. 

“Sorry it wasn’t…” he trailed off and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  “Gimme a minute, okay?” 

“There was nothing…’wasn’t’ about that…” she insisted.  “Nothing ‘wasn’t’ at all…” 

He was quiet. 

“Been kinda waiting on you to let go like that…besides…don’t know if you recall…but you spent a little time down under…” 

He smirked, reaching around to pull her leg across his waist.  “Still not done with you.” 

 

   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments would be lovely! :D
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://dresupi.tumblr.com)


	3. Throw it in Reverse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some angst in this chapter, but it gets resolved pretty quickly. 
> 
> Timeline wise, they've been dating about three months now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that feeling when you're dating someone and you see them unexpectedly, and you're so excited? 
> 
> Yeah. I'm playing around with that a little in this chapter. 
> 
> I'm a little shit, though.
> 
> Warning: They have sex without a condom. He pulls out, but I feel like I should tell you that pulling out is not the same as wearing a condom. I just have to include that, or I'll feel bad.

Darcy picked at the remnants of her lunch, which consisted of a blob of mayo that had leaked out of her BLT and the crusty corners of said sandwich, while she thumbed through her book, trying to find where she’d left off.  She tore the bottom of her receipt off to use as a bookmark and settled back in the booth. 

Yeah, she could go to the coffee shop and read like everyone else.  Except for some reason, this diner was quieter.  The people were more polite.  Kept to themselves.  No one trying to out-hipster anyone else.  No one was going to judge her for her reading tastes. 

Because sue her for wanting to read the ‘Outlander’ series before she watched the show. 

And dammit, it was brighter in here.  Who wanted to pass their free time in a dark cave that smelled like Nutella and hipsters?

She had just shot a smile at the server who had come to refill her drink, when she heard a commotion at the door.  A bunch of guys had just come in.  Construction workers by the look of them.  Bunch of burly looking dudes with scruffy facial hair.  Flannel shirts and utility belts.  Dirty jeans. 

She was just about to look back down at her book when a familiar face followed them. Logan.  Her heart stuttered a little when she saw him.  Just surprised.  She didn’t really know what he did for a living, so…it WAS surprising to see him here. That was a legitimate reaction.  It was.  She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was trying to convince herself of something.   

She bit her lip and was shifting up in her seat when his eyes met hers. Met hers and jumped away immediately.  He followed the loud guys right by her table, sitting down at the other end of the diner without so much as acknowledging her existence. 

_Ouch._

She swallowed, staring at the text in her book until the letters started swimming. 

_So much ouch…_

She chanced another look at the table where he was sitting.  He was situated facing her, facing the door, and his eyes flicked over her momentarily before he turned his attention to the table in front of him. 

_Ouch. Pain.  Why._

She set her jaw and slammed her book closed.  She put it in her bag and dug out a five for a tip.  She sent a tight lipped smiled towards her server and hit the door a little harder than she probably should have on her way out. 

She still had another half hour before she needed to start heading back to work, but she couldn’t…WOULDN’T sit in that diner trying to figure out what the fuck Logan’s deal was.  Because honestly, she was over it.  He didn’t want his friends knowing about her?  Why?  What was so wrong with her that he would be embarrassed to tell his friends about her?  And really, if he didn’t want her to meet his friends, a simple nod, or something would have sufficed. 

But that…that PRETENDING not to know her thing...  Pretending not to remember that HE was the one who showed up at HER door most nights…HE was the one who came over, HE was the one who—

 She stopped dead in her tracks. 

“Oh God…” she murmured. 

_This isn’t…oh god…I made it more than it was, didn’t I?  This isn’t anything more than Friends with Benefits…except no friends.  Just benefits._

_Oh God…_

She felt kind of sick all of the sudden.  Sick and stupid. So fucking stupid.   

He didn’t even take her out anymore.  It was all in her apartment. 

_Oh God.  It’s just sex._

And she LIKED him.  Like, she liked spending time with him.  She…she thought about him all the time.  This wasn’t…She was one of those girls.  One of those girls she used to make fun of. Those girls who chased after some guy who clearly wasn’t interested. 

Well, he was interested in something.  It was the same ‘something’ every guy was always interested in.  And just like them, he’d leave when she got too annoying. 

She bit her lip.  Hard. 

Fuck him.

She pulled out her phone, texting Jane. 

Claiming that she had debilitating cramps to get out of work wasn’t really something she normally did.  Or condoned.  Because…playing the “lady problems” card was NOT cool.  But, she didn’t really think she should be trusted around hazardous chemicals today. 

Plus, Jane and Alice would know immediately that something was wrong, and they wouldn’t rest until she told them.  And then she’d end up drunk dialing Logan later tonight and coming off as even MORE crazy. 

* * *

Her phone rang again.  The fourth time he’d called her in the past hour.  She was thinking that maybe she should answer.  Tell him to fuck himself.  But, he didn’t give her that courtesy this afternoon.  So fuck him. 

She was sitting on the floor, watching her vibrating phone jump all over the surface of her coffee table.

A sharp knock at the door made her jump.  She got up and walked over, peeking out the peephole to see an annoyed-looking Logan standing there with his phone to his ear. 

She sighed and unlocked the door, opening it wide and turning around to walk back to the living room. 

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him in a huff.  “Okay…I understand that you’re upset with me…but why can’t ya answer your phone?” 

She shrugged and stared at the coffee table. 

“Is it dead?” 

She shook her head, grabbing it and proceeding to start scrolling through her Twitter feed. She wasn’t looking at anything in particular, but it was pissing him off.  Petty?  Perhaps.  More than perhaps.  But dammit, she was mad. Angry.  Furious.  And she wanted him out of his comfort zone a little.  Give him a taste of his own medicine.    

He set his jaw angrily.  He reached out and grabbed her phone, placing it back on the table out of her reach.  “Can we…Can I talk to ya, please?” he asked.    

_Oh, now he wants to talk?_

She cocked an eyebrow, shrugging again. 

He stared heatedly into her eyes.  Clearly, his own medicine was bitter.  “Point. Made.  Now please…can I talk to ya?” 

“I don’t know,” she said sharply.  “Can you? Because…you know…I thought maybe this was just the type of thing where you come over and fuck me and that’s all…” she felt tears gathering in her eyes, even though she wasn’t sad.  She was mad.  And fuck HER for being an angry crier.  She stared down at her hands, knowing if she looked at him, she was going to cry.  And fuck if she was going to cry in front of him. 

He sighed, “You know it’s not like that…” 

She glanced over at him for a split second. He was staring at her phone on the coffee table, his hands and forearms looked tense. She exhaled loudly. “DO I?  If it’s not like that, what’s it like? I don’t know what this IS.  We’ve never talked about this…”  He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, and she KNEW he didn’t want to have this talk, but she needed it.  She needed some kind of security in this relationship.  She didn’t know anything about him. “Like…okay…if we were to go out, and SEE someone I knew.  And…unlike YOU, I wanted them to meet you…”

He flinched almost imperceptibly. 

“And I would gesture to you, and I’d say…this is Logan, my…fuck buddy?  My…special friend? My…what?” 

He pressed his lips together for a second before answering. His voice sounding a little strained.   “Boyfriend.” He turned to meet her gaze.   

She raised her eyebrows, “Really?  Boyfriend?  Because…I didn’t feel like a girlfriend today…I felt kind of like…a secret?  And not the good kind.  I felt kind of like the nerd girl that the jock dates and doesn’t want his friends to find out about.  And…I’m not making any kind of promises that I’m NOT a nerd, but I’m a catch, okay?  And—“ 

“Darcy…” he reached over to brush her hair out of her face.  “I am not ashamed of you.”

She huffed indignantly. 

“I’m NOT. I do owe you a LOT of explanations…”

She snorted, “That’s putting it mildly…”

He continued, despite her brief interruption, “STARTING with what I do for a living…I’m a contractor.  I hire sub-contractors…dry-wallers, electricians…that kinda thing…and we build...stuff.  Or renovate buildings…” 

“Kay…” she pressed her lips together and nodded, because she knew what a fucking contractor was, thank you very much.    

“We’re working on one of the office buildings a few blocks from that diner.  Started today…didn’t expect to see ya there…” 

“I eat there everyday,” she said bluntly. 

He nodded, “Okay, that’s…fine.  I didn’t know that.” 

“I work a few blocks from that diner.” 

“You work on Park Avenue?” he sounded surprised.   

“I work at Stark Tower.” 

“Oh…” his eyebrows raised, “What do you…do?” 

“I turn tricks in the lobby,” she said flatly.

He stared blankly at her. 

“I’m a lab assistant… I didn’t think this was about ME, though…” 

He shrugged, “I just…I didn’t know what you did.” 

“Likewise,” she snapped, quirking an eyebrow.    

“I’m telling you now…”

She took a deep breath, leaning back on the couch in a far less menacing position.  He was trying.  But she was still pissed at him. 

“The men you saw me with…are under my employ…it was more of a disciplinary lunch…final warning, actually…” He shifted in his seat again, like he was really uncomfortable telling her this.   

“Final warning for what?”

“…Being idiots.” 

Darcy blinked a few times, her mind racing with all the ways a bunch of subcontractors could act like idiots.  “We’ll put a pin in that, come back to it later…because…I need to know specifics.  But um…what I would like to know now…is why your idiot employees keep you from acknowledging me in public…” 

“Because…in that moment…I needed them to fear me.  And…if I show any sort of soft spot…they’ll take advantage of that, I’ll lose their respect and I’ll have to fire them…” 

Darcy grinned smugly.  “Awwww…I’m your soft spot?” 

“No…not aww,” he insisted, trying (and failing) to look serious.    

“A little ‘aww’?” she poked out her bottom lip, and noticed the corner of his mouth twitch slightly.  “See?” she pointed.  “You’re sweet on me, Cowboy…” she grinned, biting her bottom lip.   

He sighed, “See what I’m talking about?  You can’t take me seriously now.” 

“Okay, yeah.  I give.  I see why.  Big Boss Man has a Little Woman that he cuddles with most nights.  I can see how that might hurt your scary work image.” 

He shrugged noncommittally. 

“I’m still mad at you though.” 

He frowned, confused.   It was like talking to Lassie, honestly.  WORDS.  Use your WORDS. 

“BECAUSE, this could all have been avoided if you had just TOLD me what you did for a living…” 

He pointed to her phone.  “I called you.  Four times.”  The way he said ‘four times’ was the same way Darcy might have said ‘ten thousand’.    

“BEFORE today. We’ve been dating for three months and it’s ridiculous that I didn’t find out until now.”

Logan made a non-descript noise. 

“Uh-uh…no…you say you’re my boyfriend, you have to do boyfriend-things.  Like…talking…with verbs and…independent clauses and stuff…” 

He crossed his arms, sitting back on the couch. “You want me to do boyfriend things?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.  “I’m more than okay with that…”  He leaned over to kiss her cheek, but she pushed him back. 

“Not what I meant, Logan…” 

He grinned before nuzzling her neck.  He kissed her skin, teeth nipping lightly and sending bolts of desire straight between her legs.  God, he was good at that…

“Logan…” she protested half-heartedly, thoroughly enjoying the feel of his mouth on her.  But common sense prevailed and soon, she was pushing him back to his side of the couch.  “You’re cut off, Mister.” 

“If you say so…” he settled back on the couch. “Here if you need me,” he added, glancing sideways at her. 

She took a deep breath, fully determined not to give in.  Okay, not fully.  60% determined. 

He yawned suddenly, stretching his arms over his head.  She found herself gawking at him.  Because have you SEEN his abs?  His pecs?  The way he fills out a plain black t-shirt?  _Fuck._   Her determination was steadily dropping past the halfway mark. 

“You are SO not being fair…” she complained as he peeled said t-shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor behind them.  His scent flooded her nose and she had to stop herself from burying her face in his chest. 

“What?  Me?” he slumped down on the couch, propping his arms behind his head, which accentuated…fuck, Darcy didn’t know, she just knew she liked what she saw. 

Her hands were creeping over to stroke his abs in no time, much to Logan’s amusement. 

“Get that smug look off your face and take the rest of it off…” she commanded.  Her breath caught in her throat when he complied, peeling his undershirt off as he stood.  Bare chested and wearing only his jeans (and probably boxers), he reached for her, and she went, her hands stroking over all the hot, smooth skin that she could reach. Unbuckling his belt.  Unbuttoning his pants.  Unzipping his fly.   

Sometimes, she could hardly believe that she got to do this.  That she got to undress this man and have her wicked way with him whenever she wanted.  Like, she must have done something AMAZING in a past life.  Something VERY GOOD.  Bueno, Darcy.  Muy Bueno. 

She was vaguely aware of her own shirt clearing her head as she took off in a mad dash for the bedroom. 

He stopped her in the hall, grabbing her around the waist. He pressed his lips to her neck and sucked.  Her legs felt weak.  Fuck, she was weak. 

“I want you…” he murmured, rucking her skirt up and sliding off her panties. He slid his hand around under her skirt, to the apex of her thighs, slipping between them to rub gently at her clit. 

_Whoa…0 to 100, there…but in a good way…_

“Right here?” she managed to gasp. 

A tense nod against her shoulder was her answer as he spun her around to face him.  His hands glided up her thighs, circling around to grab her ass and lift her onto his front. 

She instinctively tightened her thighs around his waist and leaned back against the wall, bracing herself while he tugged his boxers down. 

He rocked against her, his stiff cock rubbing her in all the right places. 

“Touch yourself…” he whispered, inhaling sharply when she complied, running her hands up her stomach and over her breasts, tugging down the cups and flicking her nipples as he rubbed himself between her legs.

She bit her lip to stifle a moan and he grunted, rolling his hips against hers.  She could feel every muscle tensing, in his arms.  In his ass…

Fuck, she’d never actually thought about sex against a wall.  But with Logan’s upper body strength…and his lower body strength…sweet Jesus…

He didn’t look like he was even really straining at all, not yet…that might be a different story in a minute when…

He pressed forward again, his dick sliding against her easily.  He grunted again, “Fuck…so wet…” 

His voice.  He had such a sexy voice…

“I want you…please…” Darcy hadn’t meant for it to sound so…beggy.  But…here she was…pressed against a wall, being held up by her buff-as-hell boyfriend, and fuck if she didn’t have a NEED…

He smiled faintly, adjusting his hips, lining himself up. She moaned loudly when he finally sank into her, to the hilt, his muscles twitching a little as he adjusted his grip on her hips, letting her get used to him.  She clenched around him, whining a little because.  Just because.  He needed to move, dammit!

He groaned and started moving.  Slowly at first, but picking up more and more speed as he went. 

With every thrust, he rubbed against her clit, something that just didn’t happen in most positions and this was fucking with her.  She reached up to play with her nipples again, tweaking them sharply while his eyes drank her in. 

“God…” she moaned, unable to do more than she was doing.  Unable to thrust back, unable to take any of the control away from him and she fucking LOVED it.  She was at his mercy. Whether he knew it or not was another matter entirely. 

He surged forward, increasing his speed as he gripped her hips.  “Darcy…”

_Fuck, his voice…_

“God, your voice…Logan…” she ran the pads of her thumbs over her nipples.  “I love it when you talk…” 

His rhythm faltered for a split second, but then he was back, fucking her hard.  With a vengeance.  His teeth grit together and he grunted through every thrust.  “Fuck…” he rasped.  “Come…come for me…” 

She tweaked her nipples roughly and clenched around him, feeling the first hot waves washing over her.  Rolling gently at first, but increasing until she was moaning wantonly and crying out his name. 

He swore and pulled out abruptly, his cock bouncing a little as he spilled himself all over her stomach, mostly on the skirt that was bunched around her waist.  He panted, bending slightly so she could unwrap her legs from around him. She bit back all of her Monica Lewinski jokes and shimmied out of the skirt, throwing it across the hall to her laundry room. 

She debated on whether or not she should gather the trail of clothing leading out to the couch, but opted out, dragging herself to her feet and down the hall to her bedroom, where Logan was already slinking under the covers and burying his head in the pillows. 

She reached behind her, unhooking her bra and letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. 

“You asleep already?” she teased, sliding under the covers with him. 

“Not yet…” came his muffled reply from under the pillows. 

“Good…” she nudged his side.    

He rolled towards her, pulling his head from under the pillows and pressing his lips to hers.  “Are you…good?” 

“After that ‘Grade A’ lovin’ I just received?  Yeah, Big Guy, I’m good.” 

He snickered, “No…about the…” 

She had to give him mad props for expressing himself like this.  Three word sentences compared to guttural noises…or silence.    

“Oh, that…I’m coming around…” she turned towards him, running her fingers through his hair. “You gotta keep me informed.  I’m surprisingly chill if I have all the information…”

“Yeah…I keep…forgetting that…” he smirked and pulled her close, kissing her forehead.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, please? You guys are amazing! :D :D :D 
> 
> This is me:  
> 
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://dresupi.tumblr.com)


	4. Cruise Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Logan opens up about his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just kind of...warn here...I've had this chapter ready to post for a while, but I was worried about the reception. Simply because of Jean and Scott's role in it. 
> 
> Generally, I LOVE Jean Grey and Scott Summers...however, you might not get that impression from this chapter. 
> 
> And I'm sorry for that. But, like honestly, I tried to treat them with as much respect as possible, and I'll tag it appropriately. (It's probably not as bad as I'm making it out to be, but I want to be thorough). 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this! 
> 
> Unbetaed. All mistakes are mine.

“Where are we going?” Darcy asked when he stopped at the traffic light.  “I thought we were gonna go eat?” 

“We are…” Logan assured her.  “There’s just…something I need to take care of real quick.” 

“At the job site?  Because that’s hella out of the way…”

The light turned green. He smirked and revved the engine.  “Not at the job site.  At my place.”

 _?! Just…keep cool, Darce.  Don’t make a big deal out of it.  Don’t scare him._   

“Oh, at…at your place…that’s…cool.” 

She tightened her grip around his waist, hands nestled under his leather jacket.  Her stomach started cartwheeling because he’d never invited her over to his place.  Never really talked about it at all other than telling her it was in Brooklyn.  Which she’d kind of sputtered about because it was way closer to where both of them worked than her place.  But, he’d maintained that it wasn’t somewhere she’d want to spend the night, never elaborating more than that.

He stopped in front of an apartment building.  She guessed it used to be a factory or something.  He climbed off his bike, parking it on the sidewalk like usual.  He led the way to the front door, grasping her hand tightly in his. Now that she really looked at it, she could tell that it DEFINITELY used to be a factory.  It seemed kind of strange; but she’d honestly expected him to have some crappy little studio apartment or something. A hole in the wall that smelled like cigars and didn’t have its own bathroom. This was like…yuppy/hipster.  Not that Logan looked like the kind of guy who would live in a slum, but he definitely didn’t look like the type that would live in a gutted factory in Brooklyn.    

The elevator was a cage.  And she was suddenly flashing to that infamous elevator scene in “Fatal Attraction”.  But while he was kind of wild in the sack, she didn’t think he’d be into public sex.  Probably not.  She could ask.  But, probably not.    

He lived on the top floor, it looked like.  He let her exit the elevator first and led the way down the hall, to the corner.  The hallway smelled like Pine Sol and vanilla Glade.  

He opened the door and stood aside so she could go in.  She looked around.  It actually WAS a studio apartment.  At least twice as big as hers, though.  And under hella construction. Inside, it smelled like sawdust and…Logan, who pretty much always smelled like sawdust anyway…so sawdust and Old Spice.  There were big windows along one wall and exposed brick.  The ceiling was high, concrete. She could see what he meant about not wanting to spend the night here.  The area where the central heat and air unit would be was gutted and parts of the unit were strewn out on the floor.  It was cold. But he had space heaters, which he was firing up.  It wasn’t as cold as it was outside, but still not comfortable. Wouldn’t be until those heaters kicked in. 

He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and shrugged off his jacket, which he draped over one of the barstools.  “Say somethin’…” he prodded gently. He looked almost giddy.  As giddy as Logan ever looked, anyway.    

“Wow…” she turned to look at him.  “It’s so big.”  He chuckled in response to that. “No, I mean…wow.  Like…it’s unfinished…obviously…but…it’s…” 

“Well…I was gonna…work on it more before I brought you here…but…uh…” 

“NO, no, it’s great!” She smiled broadly, “Like, honestly…it looks…” 

“So ya like it?” he practically blurted.    

She nodded.  “Yeah…it’s…not what I was expecting…it’s so…”  He shrugged. “I mean, don’t get me wrong…I just…expected something…smaller…and less…” She turned to look at him before continuing, “Chic?” 

He snorted and walked over to the fridge.  “I needed a change…want a beer?” 

“Yeah…” she said absently, still looking around.  She hopped up on a stool, taking the beer from him when he handed it to her, sipping it.  “So…uh…what did you need to do here?” 

He smirked, “I…uh…figured it was time you saw the place…” 

“Really? That’s it?” 

“Just wanted you to see it…” he trailed off and stared at the solitary magnet on the fridge.  One of those that take-out places gave away with their phone number and address on them.  This one was for Brutus Pizzeria.  _“Et tu, Anchovy?”_  Kind of cheesy…but… _he he, cheesy._   

“And…?” she prodded.

“And…do you want a tour?” he asked, skirting the issue. And there WAS an issue.  She could practically feel it.  

“Depends…is it a farewell tour or…”

“No!  No, it’s…no.  Don’t worry. Just…some…stuff I wanted to run by ya…”

“Oh…okay. In that case, I’d love one…I get the VIP tour, right?”    

He leaned over the counter towards her, lightly caressing her arm.  “Darlin’…when you’re at my place, you get whatever ya want…let me just…go and clear a path…”

He was talking an awful lot.  He seemed nervous. 

“Are you trying to cover up your slovenly habits, Logan?  The secret’s going to come out sooner or later,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.  

He smiled, “No…just a lot of…tools and supplies out.  Working on the bedroom area…or I was, anyway. Wouldn’t want ya to get hurt.”  He squeezed her hand and rounded the counter, walking off behind her. 

She took another sip of the beer.  A pale ale.  Something he’d obviously bought for her. Because if he was picking, it was either dark lager or go the fuck away.  She smiled, looking around the rapidly darkening apartment with not nearly enough lamps.  She had to hand it to him, she hadn’t been expecting this.  In general, when she’d started dating him, she’d ashamedly only been looking for one thing. And while that had gradually grown into more, she was kind of aware of the boundaries each of them had set up. She was a little more lax with hers, but Logan…Logan needed his. Darcy felt like this was a big deal.  Like this was a HUGE thing he was giving her.  And she didn’t want to screw it up. 

The condensation on the outside of the beer bottle she was holding happened to be just slightly too much for the loose grip she had on it.  It went sliding out of her hand and gracefully over on its side on the unfinished slate countertop. 

“Fuck!”  she righted it as quickly as she could. 

“What’s wrong?” he called from behind her. 

“Dropped my beer…I’m sorry…” 

She grabbed a stack of papers from the path of the beer and got up to grab the dish rag from the door of the fridge to soak up the mess, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t hurt the countertop. 

He came out and stood still, staring at the papers in her hand. 

“They didn’t get wet, don’t worry…” she said.  “I saved them…sorry I’m such a klutz…” she glanced over at the stack of paper. She started straightening them, laying them flat on the dry counter beside the stovetop, not really paying attention to what she was doing. 

Logan reached out to take them from her, “Actually…this is what I needed to talk to you about…” 

“What?” 

He placed the papers in the stack and tapped the one on top. 

She looked up at him for a split second, puzzled, before looking where he had tapped.

She read:

_Plaintiff-James Logan Howlett, Defendant-Jean E. Grey-Howlett…Decree of divorce…_

Her head snapped up.  “You’re married?” 

He gave her a look, pointing to the word _divorce,_ as if that explained anything.  She scanned the document for a date and found it, about six months or so before she even met him, thankfully.  No overlap. 

“You WERE married…”  she corrected herself.

“Yep.”  He leaned back against the counter, tapping his fingers nervously.

“Why are you telling me this now?” 

“I…uh…I got to thinking about whatcha said…ya know…about not knowing anything about me?” 

“Yeah…” 

He shrugged, “This is somethin’ you should know…”

 _Whoa.  Big deal is right.  Big stuff.  Huge stuff.  He’s letting me in here. How the fuck do I react?_  

She smoothed her hands over the papers, picking them up to level them and hand them back.  “Thank you…” 

_Great job, Darce. Inspired. Now, if you can just…keep from putting your foot in your mouth for the rest of the evening, you might be golden._

He looked like he wanted to say something, kept opening his mouth and closing it again before finally speaking.  “If you wanna ask any questions…I’ll answer em.” 

She looked at the first page again, the one question she really wanted to ask was burning in her mind, behind her eyes as she stared at the document.  “YOU filed for the divorce?” 

He nodded once.  “Yeah…” 

“Can I ask why?” she asked quietly. Too quietly. She wasn’t really sure if he heard her.  He was silent for a long moment before nodding his head once more. 

“Well…”  he pulled a stool over for her and sat down in one himself.  “Kinda long story…but…I…I found out she was…WITH someone else.  A…” he swallowed thickly, “A guy I used to work with. Came home early.  Caught em.” 

“Logan…”  she reached out for his arm, stroking up and down in what she hoped was a comforting way. 

“I…uh…” he scratched the back of his neck.  “I don’t love her anymore…” 

Darcy looked up into his eyes, “Even if you did…” 

He shook his head, “I wouldn’t be wasting your time.” 

“You are most definitely not a waste of time…” she leaned in close.   

“You’re better than that…worth more than that…” he licked his lips and peered at her in earnest.  “It’s important to me that…ya know that.” 

“Know what?”  she smiled coyly. 

“That I don’t love her.  I’m not just…biding my time with you.  You’re…special, or I wouldn’t still be here.” 

She gulped, nodding her head and meeting his gaze.  “Same.” 

He chuckled and leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers heatedly.  He was still sitting on the stool, so he was more on her level, which she liked.  His hands spanned the entirety of her lower back, and pulled her closer to him, but at the same time, made it feel like it might be her idea to close the gap. It very well might have been her.  It was cold and he was warm.  So warm.  Hot even.  _God…need to feel his skin…more skin…_ She slid her hands under the hem of his shirt, over the hard planes of his stomach, stifling a groan at the contact.  He shivered when her cold fingers touched him. 

“You cold, Darlin’?” he murmured, his lips still touching hers.

She nodded. 

“Got a down comforter on my bed…” 

She raised her eyebrows.  “YOU have a comforter?” 

“I gotta stay warm when I sleep here.” 

She leaned forward and caught his bottom lip between her teeth before giving into the urge to kiss him again. 

He stood and scooped her up over his shoulder.  She squealed because it was so fucking hot that he could just…DO that.  She saw the rest of the apartment, kind of, on the way to the bedroom.  Since it was a studio, there were partitions, but no walls around the bedroom.  He dodged a sawhorse and a pile of lumber, dropping her down on the bed in the middle of the room.  A huge ass bed in the middle of the room.  He tugged off her shoes and socks. 

She unbuttoned her jeans and joked about the irony that she came back here to get warm. 

“I’ll warm ya…” he murmured as he tugged her jeans down and off. She felt goosebumps erupt from the chill in the room, but he was covering her with himself and the blanket before she could really react.

His shirt came off next, his jeans at some point, along with her jacket, shirt, and bra.  That man was a master of getting bras off.  Their limbs were a jumble, almost knotted together by the time they were both lying there naked except for underwear. Their chests heaving as she felt the warmth flood her body under that comforter, with Logan as her heater. 

The mood shifted then.  His breath, no longer frantic, slowed as he nuzzled her jaw, lips pressing lightly against her skin.  His arms encircled her waist as his kisses moved slowly lower.  Down her collarbone, in the valley of her breasts, below her ribs, over her belly…

Her panties disappeared, whether he slid them down her legs, tore them off, or fucking ate them, she didn’t know.    He parted her knees easily and continued his descent, kissing down her stomach, letting his tongue drag over her left hip, down her thigh that had started quivering. 

“Logan…” she rasped, reaching blindly for him in the sea that was the blanket.  His hand found hers, fingers lacing tightly as his lips moved steadily towards their clear goal.  She spread her legs more to make it easier for him.  He touched her gently, spreading her open before he leaned in closer, his hot breath washing over her. 

His tongue prodded her clit, and she bucked up towards him, no longer able to control her actions, and not really wanting to.  She gripped his hand tightly, keening when he settled into a brisk pace.  Licking rapidly up and down, sucking her clit and switching back to the up and down. 

The comforter came off at some point because they were both sweating underneath it.  The room was warming up, either from their activities, or the heaters were actually working.  Either way, there was a thin sheen of sweat on both of them, glistening in the moonlight that came through the huge windows. 

She momentarily worried that someone was going to see them, but stopped when he added his fingers to the mix, pressing two calloused digits into her slick opening. 

Darcy moaned loudly, pleading with him for something, anything. 

He wasn’t one to tease, but that’s exactly what he was doing.  Backing down every time she clenched around his fingers. 

He hummed, low and deep, like she was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. 

She felt herself grow close yet again, trying to keep her walls from clenching, but failing miserably.  He just felt so fucking good. 

He wasn’t backing down this time, though and she moaned in relief as she felt the wave build and build and build before cresting. She groaned as her release washed over her.  She whimpered something that sounded suspiciously like his name over and over again. 

She stopped him when it became too much, pushing back on his forehead, causing him to start making his way back up to her, licking his lips the whole time. 

He reached for his pants, pulling a condom out of the pocket.  Darcy yanked down the waistband of his boxers, his cock bobbing free. 

She took the condom from him, ripping the foil and rolling it on.    

His breath grew heavy, gravelly, when she pushed him over on his back, swinging her still shaky leg over his hips to straddle him.  She lined him up before sinking down, impaling herself on him. 

His eyes closed when she started to move, his hands coming up to grasp her hips.  Hard.  Fingers digging into her. 

“I—I’ve been wantin’ to bring you here…” he murmured, exhaling loudly when she squeezed around him. 

“Thank you…” she replied, grabbing his hands and lacing their fingers, using his hands to aid her movements.  Up and down.  Faster and faster, until his hands gripped hers tightly, a low moan slipping from his lips as his hips jerked up into her, her name a whisper on his lips. 

And later, after they came down from the high, when she was curled against him, the comforter pulled up to her chin, her stomach growled loudly, breaking the silence. 

He laughed, leaning down to kiss her forehead.  “Hungry?” 

“A bit…” 

“What can I get ya?” 

She inhaled deeply, trying to ingrain his scent as much as possible.  “Pizza sounds good.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Mebbe? <3


	5. Road Block

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Jean makes an appearance...I'm sorry. A little angst ahead. I'm terrible. But I stuck the smut at the beginning for you! Yay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go ahead and listen to "Private Fears in Public Places" by Front Porch Step for this chapter. 
> 
> Woefully unbetaed. All mistakes are mine.

Darcy hopped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her. 

Logan’s bathroom was huge. 

It was only half-complete, just a temporary stall shower and cheap linoleum down over the unfinished floor, a toilet and a pedestal sink.  He’d told her his plans for the tile floor, the two-person shower, the whirlpool tub.  But right now, it was just a huge shell of what would be a fucking amazing room. 

Unfortunately, there was no mirror.  Apparently, Logan didn’t give a fuck what he looked like. Which, if she was even remotely as hot as he was, she probably wouldn’t care either.  Dude looked like he belonged in a kilt on the cover of some steamy romance novel about a rogue Scottish duke or something.  _Mmmm, there’s an image…_ She shook herself from that particular line of thought, because she was already running late and getting ready with no mirror took some finesse.  And finesse took time.

And Darcy had a routine that needed significant altering to conform to Logan’s Spartan apartment.  It had taken her three weeks (six overnights) to perfect it.   But, makeup could be applied with a handheld mirror strategically balanced on a side table.  And pony-tails were considered business casual now, as long as you wore it high enough.

She set her shoes on a stool in the kitchen, crossing the floor to the fridge, which was atrociously empty save for a carton of OJ and three or four beers. She’d have to stress to Logan that people liked food, and if he wanted her to stay over, he was going to have to make his place a little more user friendly.   

His arms slid around her waist as he dropped his head down to kiss the place where her neck became shoulder. His breath smelled like toothpaste, and the scent of his aftershave was halfway intoxicating.

“Logan…I’m already late…”  Already late and now had to grab breakfast on the way in.  It was a good thing Jane was her boss and was pretty understanding when it came to tardiness. 

“So...what difference will a half hour make?” She felt his voice more than heard it.  Felt it as a rumble across her skin, tumbling across tender flesh as his lips kissed their way over her shoulder. Over her shoulder, crumbling her resolve.  Fuck, he knew what to do with that mouth…

“Since WHEN does this only take a half hour?” Her protest came out as a moan. Definitely not a force to be reckoned with, at any rate.

“Since I decided this was just for you…”

You know…she really didn’t sing the praises of lazy morning sex enough. 

Lazy, half-dressed morning sex.

He was still in his boxers.  His hand slid up under her skirt, flipping it up as she leaned forward against the counter. 

His fingers slid slowly over her, cupping her ass, dipping into her panties and back out again just as quickly.  His breath quickened, coming out in short puffs.  She arched her back, pushing towards him. 

His fingers slid back down, pushing aside her underwear as they slid deftly inside her, crooking slightly. 

She felt him shift as he knelt down, widening her stance as he ducked between her legs. She felt his tongue prodding at her clit as his fingers worked their way in and out slowly.

She groaned, because it was damn difficult to balance on her toes. 

His other arm pressed down on her hip encouragingly and she shifted her weight to one side, practically sitting on his face in the process.  He made a low sound akin to a growl, his fingertips digging into her hip slightly. 

Grunting, she slowly lifted her leg so it was over his shoulder, slotting herself against him. 

She ran her fingers through his hair, concentrating on the slick swipe of his tongue.  The slight squelching sound his fingers made as he pumped them in and out of her. 

“God…Logan…”

It didn’t take her long, not with his talented fingers buried deep inside her. She gasped as her walls clenched tightly around them. Her hips bucked slightly, riding out the aftershocks against his face.  She dropped her leg from his shoulder, panting slightly as he fixed her panties and sucked his fingers into his mouth, grabbing the counter with the other hand and standing up.  

He leaned back against it nonchalantly.  As nonchalant as he was capable of.  What with his impressive erection tenting his boxers and his face still a little covered with…well…her.  Still sucking on the two fingers that had been inside her. 

He raised his eyebrows, releasing his fingers with a pop.  “Aren’t you late?” 

Her response was to straighten her skirt and kneel on the floor in front of him.  He was about to protest, but she pulled down the waistband of his boxers, freeing his erection.  It bobbed in front of her, and she glanced up at him briefly before sucking his entire length into her mouth. 

He groaned loudly, gripping the underside of the counter as she relentlessly moved her mouth up and down his length.  She swirled her tongue over the tip, reaching up to cup his balls with one hand, the other wrapping around the base of his cock. 

She ran her tongue up the underside, wiggling it slightly before she started bobbing her head again, catching a glimpse of him, white-knuckle-gripping the countertop, eyes closed as he tried to keep quiet. 

He grunted when she switched it up again, pumping his dick with her fist a couple of times before sucking him completely in again. 

“M’ Close…” he blurted, letting one hand grasp the back of her head as she sucked him back down again, slicking her way with saliva as she gently rolled his balls in her right hand.  She felt them begin to tighten when she did that.  “Darcy…I’m close…” he repeated, a little more urgently than before. 

She let her left hand slid up his hip and over to his hand on the counter, squeezing it reassuringly. He groaned again, his hips stuttering forward as she bobbed her head.  His hand was tangled in her hair. 

“Close…fuck…coming…” he swore, and she felt something hit the back of her throat.  She gagged slightly, but swallowed and swallowed until he started to go soft and he tugged on her hair. 

She flexed her jaw and stood on shaky legs as he slumped against the counter.  She straightened her clothes and tugged the elastic out of her hair.  “Guess I need to go brush my teeth again…” she grinned as she practically flounced across to the bathroom again.

* * *

 

She was an hour late to work.  All because of her giving personality.  And she had to endure Jane’s smirking and Alice’s jokes all morning.  Good natured smirking.  Good natured jokes.  They were just being smug little bastards because as they saw it, she wouldn’t even have a reason to come in to work late if it weren’t for their gentle SHOVE into what they called a Harlequin-worthy romance.  Of course, she HAD just compared Logan to the hairy-chested-Harlequin-hero of the kilt-wearing variety that morning, so they weren’t far off.

She was sitting idly at her desk, waiting for Jane or one of the other scientists to ask for something when Alice slid her chair over next to hers. 

“Darce…” she began, her voice low.  “Jane and I were thinking, it might be fun if you and Logan came on a triple date with us and the guys…Indian Food and hookah?” 

Darcy smirked, “Somehow I don’t think Thor and Bruce are gonna go for that any more than Logan is…” 

“C’mon…we want to meet him.  He’s been stealing you from us for the past six months…can’t we even meet the guy?” 

“You have met him.” 

“I mean, REALLY meet him.”

“Re-meet him?” Darcy suggested.

“Yes.  That.  AND someone has to ask him what his intentions are!  You’ve been together for six months!” 

“Yes.  And we’re pretty happy with where we are now…no need to rush anything.”

Alice pouted, “But it’s Indian food! And hookah!  You know, that place I was telling you about?”     

She relented a little.  “I guess you guys have been pretty good about not bugging me.  It’s actually amazing you let me go this long.”  It really was, considering how meddlesome Jane and Alice tended to be.  Well, she leaned towards meddlesome when it came to them as well, so it was just what she deserved.

“We HAVE been good.  I mean…we were letting you get comfortable…but we miss you, Darce.  If you’re gonna be with him all the time, maybe he could share sometimes?” 

Darcy felt kind of bad, because while the sex with Logan was amazing, she HAD been forsaking her social life a little.  And it wasn’t like they were asking much.  He probably wouldn’t bat an eye if she asked him. And if things started…getting serious, he’d have to hang out with them at some point anyway.  It might as well be now. “I’ll run it by him,” she grinned.  “Shouldn’t be a big deal.” 

“Yay!  I’m excited to re-meet him,” Alice practically bounced in her seat. 

Darcy crossed her legs at the knee, leaning forward slightly, “Okay, but more importantly, how are you going to convince Bruce to eat Indian food?” 

Alice snorted, “Are you kidding?  It was his idea!  He used to live in Jaipur, you know.” 

“No way!  What was he doing over there?” 

Alice shrugged, “Research, probably…did I tell you that he’s taking me to— “ 

“To Australia, yeah, you told me…” _A billion fajillion times, you told me. Your adorkable boyfriend is taking you to Australia for the summer.  Not that I’m bitter, I have no clue what I’d do in Australia.  And not that I’m jealous of you, because I’m so freaking happy that you and Bruce found each other…I just don’t need to hear about this constantly until you get on the freaking plane._   

Thankfully, Darcy’s phone rang then, her work phone, not her personal line.  She picked up the phone, expecting to hear one of the scientists asking for help with clean up or something, but it was the receptionist at the front desk, informing her that she had a visitor in the lobby.  Since it was almost time for lunch, she figured she could stop off at the lobby on her way to meet Logan at the diner on the corner. 

By the time she got off the phone, Alice was already back at her desk, on the phone and scribbling something on a pad. Darcy waved a quick goodbye as she grabbed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder and walking towards the elevators. 

She wasn’t sure what to expect in terms of visitors.  Sometimes, they were equipment salesmen who thought she actually had some pull with purchasing (she didn’t), or sometimes it was a delivery she had to sign for.  She didn’t really know what she was expecting. 

But, it definitely wasn’t this. 

A woman was standing there at the reception desk, leaning against it. She had long red hair and was dressed professionally.  When the receptionist addressed Darcy, she turned, arching an eyebrow and taking her in.  Her hand went down protectively over what Darcy could now see was a bulging belly. 

“Darcy Lewis?” she addressed her, holding out her other hand.  “I’m Jean.  Jean Grey…” 

“Oh, right.  Logan’s…um…ex-wife…” she answered, as delicately as she could. 

A smile stretched across Jean’s face that looked somewhat genuine and at the same time, not.  “I’ve been trying to get in touch with Logan…something kind of pressing I need to discuss with him…”  she glanced down at her own stomach, where her hand was steadily rubbing circles. “I thought maybe you could pass the message along to him…” 

“How did you…” Darcy frowned, “How did you know who I was, and more importantly, where I work?  Because…this…this is not cool.” 

“Oh…it wasn’t difficult.  You live tweet everything.  Even your Netflix habits.”

“Still…” 

Jean sighed, looking tired, “Look.   I didn’t know what other way to contact him.  This isn’t an ideal situation for anyone involved.  Do you think I want to see you and talk to you…when you look like that, and I look like this? And…I just didn’t want to get the lawyers involved again.  He and I both had such a terrible time of it during the divorce, and now…with this little one on the way, I have to save my pennies…kids are so expensive.”

Darcy wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not.  Logan hadn’t mentioned anything about her other than she’d cheated on him.   

“Are you…you’re implying that it’s his, aren’t you?” 

The other woman frowned for a split second, “Can you tell him to call me, please?” 

Darcy found herself nodding, if for no other reason than to get the fuck out of this room and away from this woman.   Who, regardless of her little insecurities, was a million times prettier than she could ever hope to be.  And fairly pregnant to boot.  She didn’t even want to think about the possibilities of this. 

If it was Logan’s kid? 

God, what would that even mean?  Would he want to end things?  Go back with Jean so the kid could have a family?  Or was Jean just hitting him up for child support? 

Did this happen while they were together?  Was he lying to her from the start?  She tried not to think that way of him.  He had no reason to lie about ANYTHING with her.  No reason to cheat.  No time to cheat.  Unless it was at the beginning... 

She looked up at her surroundings, realizing that she’d walked right past the diner and had continued on for 4 blocks before realizing it.  She turned around and walked back, almost dreading the conversation she was going to have to have with Logan about all of this. 

She was debating putting it off until she sat down at the table across from him.  He took one look at her face and frowned.  “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.  His eyes searched hers worriedly.  “Did something happen?” he turned his head slightly to look out the window.  “What’s wrong?” he repeated. 

“Um…” she took a deep breath.  “Jean visited me at work today.” 

“Jean?” he sounded surprised.  Like it was the last possible thing he was expecting her to say. 

“Yeah…she wants you to call her…” she said almost flippantly, not really recognizing her voice as it steadily got softer, “Why didn’t you tell me she was pregnant?” 

His eyebrows raised slightly.  As surprised as Logan ever looked. “I didn’t know she was.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffie! I'll try and update soon, I don't want to keep you hanging for too long!


	6. Slippery When Wet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo sorry for the long wait between updates. I'd love to say it won't happen again, and hopefully it won't, but you know me...*eye roll*
> 
> Guh. Lots of stuff happens in this chapter too. Well, lots of stuff gets...revealed in this chapter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, and please PLEASE let me know what you think!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my hubby for beta-reading this for me. He's amazing. <3

The rest of the afternoon was kind of a blur. 

Logan had completely dismissed the idea that he was the father of Jean’s sperm blossom.  Which threw Darcy for a loop because Jean didn’t seem to know one way or the other.  And she figured…Jean would be the person to know, right?  She SHOULD know. 

But Logan had insisted one, two…no three times that it wasn’t his.  He’d also told her not to worry. 

So, of course, she’d gone back to work and worried. 

She’d worried her way through four hours of half-assed lab assisting. Somehow dodging questioning glances from both Jane and Alice because of well-timed calls. 

And she’d worried her way home afterwards. 

She worry-cooked.  Chicken and broccoli.  Brown Rice.

And then, she ate.  Kind of.  She actually ended up scraping it all into Tupperware containers. Because worry-eating wasn’t going to help anyone.  She could do that later when she knew if she had legitimate cause to worry and wasn’t just worrying about the possibility of having to worry.    

She was washing the dishes when he finally called. The custom ring she’d set for him was blaringly loud.  The Black Keys.  It was lucky he never heard the ring she had set for him.  He wasn’t a fan.      

“Hi, are you home?” he asked. 

“Yes…” she started walking towards the front door.  His idea of calling before he came over was usually limited to a few seconds’ notice.  Especially if he had something on his mind.   So, the sharp knock at the door didn’t surprise her; it actually made her smile a little.    What surprised her was that she hadn’t heard his motorcycle. She must have really been out of it.    

She went to the door, hands slipping on the knob because she’d forgotten to dry them off.  She got it open and he was standing there, looking very tired.  Worried and tired, with a cab driving off behind him. 

 _That’s why I didn’t hear it…_  

He took a few steps into the apartment and she braced herself for whatever he was about to do.  Be it walk past without so much as a nod in her direction, directly to the couch to watch TV…or kiss her until she couldn’t walk straight.

His hands slipped around her waist and his lips pressed to hers, more gently than she’d been bracing for. Almost tender?  Strong arms holding her up and soft lips pulling at hers.  The only thing rough about it was his five-o’clock shadow.  And that wasn’t that rough, to be honest. 

Well, it was.  Like sexy sandpaper.    

“M’sorry…” he mumbled against her mouth and her heart sank pre-emptively. Even though she’d been schooling herself all afternoon.  Reminding herself not to jump to premature conclusions.   “I should have called you earlier…”

 _Calm down, Lewis.  He’s not going to kiss you like that and break up with you.  Come on, you know him better than that.  He told you that you’re special, remember?_    

“Yeah, you should have…what happened to your bike?” she gestured towards the empty curb behind him. 

“Got towed.”

“I’m sorry…what?” 

He sighed, biting his bottom lip and shaking his head.  “The place Jean wanted to meet, they didn’t appreciate the uh…bike on the sidewalk.  It got towed.”    

“Fuck…we’ll go get it.  Come on…” she tugged him towards the still open door, the cold air blowing outside.  She was damn straight about to traipse up to the impound lot at nine P.M. without a coat.  THAT’S how much she wanted to avoid this conversation. 

He smiled, slipping his arm around her waist. He tugged her back inside, closing and locking the door behind him.  “That’s sweet, Darlin’.  But, I’ll get it tomorrow.”   

“I’ll go with you…” she offered.  Not that she’d be much help, but she just wanted to DO something.

“Go get lunch after?  Make a day of it?” he teased, leaning down to kiss her again. 

She shrugged, “I guess, I dunno…I’m not sure how I’m supposed to be acting here…I don’t want to stress you out or make you—“ 

“You don’t have to act any way…it’s ME that should be in the dog house.”     

“Well…you’re not.  So long as you…ya know, come clean and tell me what the hell’s going on…is it your kid or not, Logan?  I can adapt either way, I just…I need to know.  And I need to know what you want to do…if you want to break up, or not…I mean, I am here for you, okay?”

“You’re putting the cart ahead of the horse, there.” He eased himself down on the end of the couch and she sat beside him. 

“Okay, so…is there a cart?  Or a horse?  What is the horse and what is the cart?  Where am I in relation to the cart…and the horse?”   

He sighed, “The kid ain’t mine, Darcy.” 

She paused, trying to process that information first before— “Okay, but what if it is?” 

“It’s not,” he repeated, a little more adamantly.

“I hear you, but on the off chance that it IS yours, what is the plan?” 

“There is no plan, because it’s not mine.”    

“Okay, I’m not sure I understand…she lied?  You didn’t sleep with her when she says you slept with her?” 

“No, I did.  Wasn’t my proudest moment.”

A wave of nausea rolled over her, causing her to cough a little.    “Okay, before we move on, I have to ask you something.  And just understand that I have to ask this for my own peace of mind…but it wasn’t while we were together, was it?” 

He frowned, shaking his head, “Of course not. This was before.” 

She sighed in relief.  “Okay, thank you…”  She felt him relax slightly before she asked him again, “So tell me how it can’t be yours, if you slept with her around the time she got pregnant…because condoms are only 97% effective.”

“Sterility is 100% effective.” 

“Well yeah…but…” she frowned, “You’re not sterile, though.” 

He raised his eyebrows, pressing his lips together expectantly before staring at her coffee table. 

“No.  You’re not.  Because we have had sex. And your…junk worked JUST fine.” 

He rubbed his hand down over his face once before answering.  “I’m not impotent.  I’m sterile.” 

She stared at him, waiting for more of an explanation. Because, full disclosure, she honestly thought they were the same thing. 

“I’m shootin’ blanks, Darcy.” 

She was sure her mouth fell open then.  She covered it with her hands, because let’s be honest.  She wasn’t closing it anytime soon. 

“Say something…” he said quietly, his eyes wide and pleading. 

_WHAT?  What the hell do I say?_

“How long have you…known about…” 

“Found out when I was in the army.” 

_He was in the army?  Sterile and a veteran.  What else can I find out about my boyfriend today?  Is he also a superhero?_

“Which was when, exactly?” 

“Right after high school…” he mumbled.

“So…fifteen years, you’ve known for fifteen years?”  He nodded in reply.  “But Jean didn’t know?  What am I saying?  Of course she didn’t know, if she thought it was your kid…”

He pressed his lips together, nodding again.  “She doesn’t know.”    

“Still?”  Another nod.  “Are you going to tell her?” 

“I just wanted you to know first.” 

Darcy sat back on the couch, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyelids, there was a pounding, throbbing pain slowly sneaking in.  She took several deep breaths. 

“Do you want me to go?” 

She shook her head. 

“Do you want to go lay down?” 

She shook her head again. 

He scooted a little closer, reaching over to squeeze her knee reassuringly. 

A thought occurred to her at that precise moment that struck her as funny for some reason, because she choked out a laugh that was legitimately the loudest thing either of them had uttered in the past few minutes. 

She covered her mouth immediately, a little embarrassed. 

He shot her a quizzical look. 

“It’s just…” she snorted loudly, her shoulders shaking with laughter.  She shook her head, taking big gulps of air, trying to calm down.  “It’s just that…we could have been bare backing this whole time.” 

He turned to stare at her, before chuckling, “What?” 

“Condoms.  They suck.  We could have been bare backing…FUCK, I could stop getting my birth control shot!” 

“Okay?”

“I’m serious, you have no idea how much of a relief that is.  It makes me retain water like a Sham Wow.”

“Okay?” 

“I’m just saying…” she shrugged.  “Silver linings, you know?” 

He smiled, probably in spite of himself.  “Only you, Darlin’.” 

“Only me what?” 

“Only you could find something good out of ANY of that information.” 

She grinned smugly, “I mean…it’s kind of a huge surprise.  And you were kind of a dick not to tell Jean about it…but…” she shrugged again, “That’s none of my business.  What IS my business is that I have a cluster headache forming, so I’m going to go take a bath.” 

“Kind of a dick?” he asked as she stood up. 

“Yeah.  But not as big of a dick as you could have been.  Thank you for telling me.”

 “Welcome…” he watched her as she walked towards the bathroom. 

“You can come join me if you want…” she called over her shoulder.

“In your bath?”  He was making a face, she could tell. 

“Yeah.  Tub’s actually kind of big.  Claw foot, you know.”  She didn’t stay to hear his response.  If she knew Logan, he’d be following her pretty soon. She sauntered off to the bathroom, filling the tub when she got there. 

And just like she expected, he was nudging the door open around the time she was checking the temperature with her toe. 

“You wanna get in first, Big Guy?” 

He smirked and shed his clothes without a word, toeing his way into the tub.  She settled in between his legs, her back pressed against his front as she laid back against him.  She propped one foot up on the end of the tub, playing with the faucet with her big toe. 

She sighed and let her head rest on his chest, closing her eyes and feeling his chest rise and fall. 

“I’m a lot older than you, ya know.” 

“Yep.  I know.” 

“And I’m mean.” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“And I can’t have kids.” 

She shifted a little, causing some of the water to displace as she craned her neck so she could see him.  “Are we listing things about ourselves?  Because I used to steal stuff when I was in high school.  Not stuff I needed.  Just liked the thrill of it.  Also, I am not an organ donor, because I’m selfish and I worry that the doctors won’t try to save me if they have three people waiting on my organs.  AND…I’m twenty-five years old and I have no idea what I want to do with my life.  I am a professional lab assistant.”

“I still can’t have kids.” 

She turned abruptly, water sloshing out onto the floor even more.  He reached out pre-emptively to steady her. 

“Listen here, and listen good.  I just got through telling you that I am a twenty-five-year-old lab assistant who doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life.  I have a pop tart on a china plate in my living room that is gathering dust.  I am an adult who would rather spend a worrisome amount of money on lush bath bombs than pay an extra ten cents a pound for organic baby carrots…I am not ready to have kids.” 

“But you might be.  One day.”

She crawled forward until her face almost touched his. “Logan, if I want to have kids one day, that will be between the person I am with and me.  And if the person I am with is still you, we will figure something out, okay?  I’m not letting your ability to knock me up be a factor in our relationship.” 

He licked his lips, eyes travelling up from her mouth to her eyes and back down again.  “That so?” 

“Yeah.  That okay with you?” 

He nodded slowly, “Yeah…”

“Good…” she leaned back slightly, sitting back on her heels.

He pressed his lips together, leaning forward, he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.  She reached out to grab his shoulders for support and his hand moved up her side and around her back.  She dipped her head forward as his other hand slid between her legs, fingers spreading her slightly and seeking her clit. 

His tongue poked out between his teeth, licking his lips as his eyes sought her gaze, holding it.  “Is that good?” he whispered, his fingers rubbing against her clit.  Slowly, so slowly. The slight drag of his calloused fingers made her keen softly. 

“I want you…” she murmured.  “Fuck, I want you.” 

“We’ll hafta get out for that…” he chuckled.  “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No…” she moaned, spreading her knees as much as she could in the tub, trying to give him more room.  She needed more friction.  His lips pressed against hers, swallowing her moans as she writhed down against his hand. 

“Logan…” 

He kissed her again, his mouth tasted like cigar smoke. Which wasn’t something she remembered tasting on him lately.  He must have had one today.  She pulled back from him abruptly. 

“I want you,” she demanded, a little more driven this time, tugging on his arms, intending to hop out of the tub, perhaps onto the soft bath mat or even against the sink.  Logan had other ideas, and as it turned out, better ideas. 

He pulled the drain plug with his foot, pulling himself up and turning her around.  He pushed her forward gently, and finally getting the idea, she lifted her leg onto the side of the tub, his hands gripped her hips as he teased her opening with his erection.  

“Touch yourself…” he commanded, his voice deep and raspy. 

Her right hand immediately obeyed, sliding down to rub small circles around her clit.  She hissed as he breeched her opening, gliding easily into her slick heat. 

He wasted no time, apparently he was as hot for it as she was, his hips ramming into her with no reprieve. He groaned openly, her name being the only coherent thing he said. 

She rubbed her clit, having to back off a few times when it was almost too much.  She wanted to come when he did, but she wasn’t sure she was going to make it, his dick was rock hard and hitting her sweet spot with every stroke.  And she felt like she could feel him.  All of him.  Every ridge and curve in his cock was dragging against her walls and it felt so fucking good.

When she couldn’t hold off anymore, she half gasped, half panted his name, her hips stuttering as she came hard, clenching around him tightly, her finger still rubbing wantonly at her clit.    

“Darcy…” he murmured, his hips ramming harder than before, fingers digging into her skin as he fucked her, skin slapping loudly as he chased his own release.  “Where d’ya want me?” he asked through clenched teeth. 

“Just there…stay there…” she reached for one of his hands as his hips lost their rhythm, his thrusts became erratic. 

“I’m…I’m…fuck…I’m coming…” he thrust shallowly into her and she felt it, hot and slick between her legs. He bent down close to her, pressing kisses to the back of her neck, down between her shoulder blades.

She was still bent towards the wall and he straightened, pulling out of her.  He pulled the shower curtain closed, turning on the water again and reaching for the shower sprayer. 

She was about to ask why, when she felt it, hot and sticky, and coating the inside of her thighs. 

“Oh…” she reached down automatically to wipe it away, only succeeding in smearing it around more.  She rinsed her hand under the shower sprayer and winced when he turned it against her.  “Whoa, whoa there… with the water spray…” 

He smirked, “Sorry ‘bout that…little sensitive are we?” 

“I dunno, Logan, let’s see…” she made a fake grab for his crotch and he backed out of it.

“Careful there, Darlin’…” he grinned and handed her a wash cloth and the sprayer as he stepped out of the tub slowly, yanking a towel down from the rack and wrapping it around his waist. 

“Or what?” 

“Might get me interested in round two…” 

“Already?” 

He glanced down briefly before looking back at her, “Maybe gimme a few minutes?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! *wipes brow* So...what do you think?


	7. Detour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Logan and Darcy have the bright idea to brunch with Jean and Scott. Turns out, not such a bright idea. I would remind you to look at the tags. I feel like my Jean might be a little OOC. I tried to take into account her shaky mental status in X-Men, transfer that to a no-powers AU. Not to mention the fact that she's 6 months pregnant here and getting a major bombshell dropped on her. She's still an ass, though. *shrugs* And Scott too, in a different way. 
> 
> But then, I make it up with the lovely smut at the end. <3 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd. Because it is my way with this fic. 
> 
> Song for Darcy's striptease is ["Howling at Nothing" by Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzqmVa6n-es)

“I don’t want her here.  This doesn’t concern her!”  Jean exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Darcy from across Logan’s countertop.

“By that logic, Scott doesn’t belong here either…”  Logan said quietly.  With every decibel Jean breached, Logan got that much quieter.  It was an eerie yin and yang.

Darcy could totally leave for a few minutes. She’d make the “sacrifice” of leaving the Room of Tension.  Go down to the game room Logan’s building had.  Sit there and pretend to play Ms. PacMan until Jean waddled out with Scott in hot pursuit. 

Logan’s hand tightened on hers when he felt her start to rise, giving her a look that pleaded with her not to leave.   So Darcy sat tight.  Did her best impression of a duck and let Jean’s toxic garbage roll off her back.

Everything had started out alright.  They’d invited them over for brunch…because Logan had to tell Jean he had pretty much kept something huge from her for their entire acquaintanceship. That he’d been shooting blanks for their entire marriage. The least they could do was feed them first. 

Jean had talked some.  Scott barely said two words.  He looked like he was pretending to be in his happy place or something.  Logan had said before that Scott was kind of a jerk, but Darcy had no idea just how big of one he was.  Of course, she kind of felt bad for him too.  His woman was pregnant and he had no idea whose kid it was.  Well, he was about to know.  So maybe he’d stop being such a stuck up asshole after that. 

And Jean had dug into the cheese and mushroom frittata that Darcy had whipped up in Logan’s kitchen.  Logan’s kitchen that she fucking LOVED to cook in.  Because everything was new and all the burners worked on the stove.  But that was beside the point.  The point was, Jean and Scott had eaten her food. 

And then they started talking. And the bit about Logan’s sterility came out…   

And Jean had broken two plates.  She’d gone from zero to crazy in record time.  And the more she talked, the more Darcy felt sorry for Scott.  Well, the more she felt sorry for Scott, Logan, and herself for having to listen to Jean’s tirade.  Mostly Scott though.  He’d have to leave with her. 

Gone was the prim and proper woman who wore heels while six months pregnant.  In her place sat the woman before her, sweaty and angry.  Constantly shifting uncomfortably in her seat.  Alternately yelling angrily at Logan and crying into her hands. 

Darcy tried to think that maybe Jean didn’t mean any of the slurs she cast out like a net in front of her.  Sticking to random targets.  Sometimes Scott, sometimes inanimate objects, but mostly Darcy and Logan.  Darcy had been told that pregnancy did crazy things to a woman.  Maybe this was a result of hormones. 

Or maybe it was because Logan had lied to her for the entire time they’d been together and Jean had finally, finally snapped.  That was also a valid reason. 

She tried to keep her cool and give Jean a shadow of reasonable doubt.  No matter how hard she was making it.  Or how many ridiculous demands she made.  Like, telling Darcy to leave, for one. 

“Scott’s here for ME…” she said, her tone dripping with offense at Logan’s audacity to compare Darcy and Scott. 

_Right.  OBVIOUSLY Scott’s the better person here.  I mean, he DID fuck you while you were still married to Logan.  And me?  I didn’t start dating Logan until your divorce was final. How whorish am I?_

“And Darcy’s here for me…” Logan said plainly, squeezing her hand. “And this is my place.  She’s always welcome here.”   

“Well…she’s upsetting me…”

_I’M upsetting YOU.  Right._

“This whole little reveal of yours was very upsetting.  You made a FOOL out of me, Logan!” Jean hissed. 

Logan took a sip of his cooled coffee, swallowing thickly. “I know.  And I am sorry for that, but Darcy had nothin’ to do with that.  If you’re upset with anyone, it should be with me.”

“Oh, there’s enough to go around, Mr. Howlett…” she hit the ‘T’ at the end of his name with extra vigor.  “Believe me, there’s enough for everyone.” 

Logan took a deep breath, about to speak again, but she cut him off. 

“I want proof.  For all I know, this could be your way of trying to weasel out of being responsible.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows, cutting her gaze toward Logan.  He’d called it.  Color her impressed.  Their time spent at the fertility clinic the previous week hadn’t been in vain.  Well…his time in the fertility clinic and her time in the waiting room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone while her boyfriend went into a room to jack off into a cup.    

Logan nodded, “I figured as much.  So…at your leisure, you can go to this doctor.”  He held up a business card.  “He’s been instructed to share my most recent fertility test results with you, as well as the test results from the first test that I got when I was in the army…” he slid the card across the counter towards her. 

Jean smacked the card out of his hand. It fluttered to the ground.  “I want you tested again.  My doctor.  So I know it’s real.”

Okay, THAT was REALLY unexpected.  And a little vindictive of her.  Darcy rescinded her previous feelings of sympathy for the woman seated before them.  She seemed perfectly calm and collected all of the sudden.  Looking very pleased with herself for turning the tables again.  She folded her swollen hands, smirking slightly.  She wasn’t going down without a fight.  And making Logan jerk it into a cup on command was her play, apparently.       

Logan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, taking a deep breath, “Whatever you want, Jean.”

Darcy stared between them in disbelief.  _Okay, no fucking way._   

“Hey…” Darcy spoke up, “No way.  He did it already.  You don’t get to make him do it again.  You don’t get to drag this out just because you’re pissed off.  I’m sorry that your marriage was built on lies.  I really am.  But it’s over now…you’re with a guy who loves you…right?” she nodded towards Scott.  “And y’all are gonna have a baby together…maybe you should focus up on that? And focus less on getting back at your ex-husband.” 

The look Jean gave her was the stuff of nightmares.  Darcy could practically see hell’s fire glowing red in her eyes. 

“You have got SOME nerve…” she began. Her voice low and steady, not a tremor to be found.  “You think you can be his fuck buddy for a few months and then tell ME how to handle relations with him?  I’ve said it before, this doesn’t concern you, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ve got a few more worthwhile ways to spend your time.  Like playing on your phone or studying for finals or bending over the kitchen counter and letting him—” 

Logan’s fist hit the table, “Enough.”  It was loud enough that everyone, even Jean jumped a little.  “Jean, I said I’d do it.  If it will get ya to leave us alone, I’ll do it.” 

She smiled smugly, glancing over at Darcy briefly. 

“But you don’t get to talk to my girlfriend that way,” he continued, his voice still had that edgy, weird tone.  “Our relationship is none of your business.  Just like yours n’ Scott’s is none of mine. Her age?  None of your business.  How we spend our time?  None of your business.” 

Darcy puffed up her chest a little, looking up at him in admiration.  Damn right, Baby. 

Jean’s mouth hung open for a second before she recovered herself.  She stood, with some help from Scott, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.  “Well, I’ll be in touch.  With your doctor’s appointment.  Because that IS my business.” 

Darcy stood and turned to start cleaning up while Logan showed them out.  Because if she didn’t get busy with something else, she might strangle Jean right there in the kitchen.  And the other people here might actually let her.    

“Oh, and Darcy?” Jean called from the front door.  Darcy looked up expectantly, even though she probably should have just ignored her.  “There will come a day when he won’t be as interested in bending you over things.  Just a word to the wise…” she smirked and turned, waddling out of the apartment with Scott closely following. 

Darcy stood there with her mouth open, water running into a pan in the sink. 

“Well…I never liked bending her over things to begin with, so I don’t think you’ll hafta worry…” Logan stated with a smirk, crossing the floor to clear the remaining unbroken plates from the table. 

“That is NOT funny…” she shut off the water and wiped her hands on her thighs.  She went to the pantry to grab the broom.

“It’s a little funny…”  He handed her the plates and took the broom from her hand, walking over to sweep up the broken bits of plate from the floor. 

“She threw your plates…” Darcy reminded him, gesturing to the mess he was sweeping up. 

“Yeah?  When we were married, she broke practically everything we owned.  She’s kind of…” 

“Destructive? Unpredictable?” 

“At the time, I called it passionate…”  he shrugged.  “Love goggles, I guess.” 

“I guess…” she rinsed off the plates and set them in the dishwasher.  “When she glared at me…I thought my death was imminent.” 

“Hey…you’ve got a scary death glare yourself, Darlin’.  Ya held your own.” 

She shrugged, “I guess…kinda felt a little out of my element there…I mean…my mom is pretty…” she gestured vaguely.  “But like…this was just…a whole new level…” 

He threw the plate pieces away in the trash, placing the broom back in the pantry.  “So…I gotta work on the bathroom today…” 

“That my cue to get outta your hair?” 

“Not unless you want outta my hair…just warnin’ ya.  Won’t be able to watch Full House with ya all day.” 

“Fuller House, thank you very much…” 

“I’ll be in there…just holler if ya need anything…” he leaned down to kiss her lips.  She hummed into the kiss, grabbing his t-shirt to hold him there.  “Hey now...” he detached her hand from the white cotton.  “Don’t start with that…I want to finish up the plumbing so they can bring up the tub Monday mornin’. And I've already wasted three hours on THAT fiasco...so I'm gonna be in a hurry now and...” 

“Is it a big tub?” she asked, hoping to reduce his stress level just a little.  He loved bragging about his apartment. Especially to her.   

“Yup.  Bigger than yours,” he winked, the implication clear. 

She arched an eyebrow, “Carry on, then…I guess I can wait till dinner time.” 

“Are you cookin’, or we goin’ out?” 

“I’ll cook,” she grinned, slyly eying his resulting pleased expression, him walking off with a spring in his step.  

* * *

 

“You sure that’s gonna be alright?” she gingerly held his bandaged hand in hers, pressing a soft kiss to the knuckles.  “You don’t need stitches, do you?” 

“Nah…I glued it. And I’m up to date on my shots.” His good arm wound around her waist and pulled her down on the couch with him, splayed across his lap.  

“Logan…” she scolded.  “You really should let me take you to the hospital…” 

“They’d do the same there.  I’ll just be careful with it for a few days…don’t worry ‘bout me, Darlin’.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Too late.” She squirmed in his lap so she was straddling him, arms draped around his shoulders. "It was because you were rushing, wasn't it?"

“This is nothin’,” he insisted, “One time, one of the guys at work, he cut himself with his box cutter, right?  And there was just blood everywhere— ”

She covered his mouth with her hand.  “No, no…I don’t want stories.” 

His lips pressed against her palm.  “Fine…no stories…”  She cupped his chin and pulled him close for a kiss.  “’Sides, the real shame here is that I can’t undress ya…” his gaze drifted down the length of her torso. “It’s a damn shame, too…” 

“Right, it’s not like I don’t have two hands of my own…” she reached down to play with the hem of her t-shirt.  “Of course, it’s your right hand…that’s my favorite…” she waggled her eyebrows knowingly. 

He laughed, “It’s not like you don’t have two hands of your own…” he echoed her earlier words, raising his eyebrows, like he was asking her for a favor.  Like scratch his back, get him a beer.  Or like…masturbate for his enjoyment.  Just a normal Saturday night. 

She shifted in his lap, making his eyes close momentarily.  “Hmmm…guess I will have to take care of it myself for a while…” 

He cleared his throat, opening his eyes as she lifted herself slowly off his lap, an idea forming suddenly.  She just hoped she could pull it off. 

“Guess I’ll have to take care of you, too…” she eyed his crotch briefly before rising completely off his lap. 

He reached for her as she stood, turning to walk over to his stereo.  She grinned mischievously, pulling out her phone and swiping around until she found what she was looking for: a playlist of slow, thumping beats that she usually played when she was cleaning.  Or cooking.  Definitely not for this.  She plugged in her phone, starting the first song. 

She stood there for a second, her nerves kicking in.  She took a deep breath, rubbing the back of her neck, letting her hand trail down the length of it, dragging down around her breast as her hips started to roll slowly.  She caught her bottom lip in her teeth, trying to hold back the nervous laughter as she peeked over her shoulder at him, half-expecting him to be laughing.

He wasn’t. 

His eyes were dark and focused on her.  He licked his lips. 

Her stomach swooped at the look he was giving her. 

She slowly turned again, swaying her hips in time to the music, letting her hands run down the length of her curves.  She turned slightly to the side, grabbing the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it up and over her head, spinning it for effect and tossing it aside. 

She turned, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her yoga pants, sliding them down her thighs and kneeling to push them to the floor.  She freed her feet, parting her legs as she straightened them, still bent at the waist.  She slowly rolled up and climbed onto his coffee table. Crawling towards him

She slid her legs around, honestly making this up as she went.  Standing up directly in front of him.

She reached behind her to unhook her bra, the cool air in the room stiffening her nipples almost immediately.  He inhaled sharply, leaning forward, eyes on her crotch as she started lowering her panties. 

She teased him a little, swaying a little and pulling them back up a few times.  To the point where he shifted in his seat, his left hand palming his junk. 

She lowered them fully, then, sitting down on the coffee table and sliding them completely off.  

She made a big show of playing with her breasts, plucking her nipples and rolling her thumbs over them. Swallowing down the gasps that tried to escape. 

Her skin felt hypersensitive, his eyes raked all over her as she leaned back slightly to spread her legs and prop them on the couch on either side of his knees.  He spread his knees a little then, arching an eyebrow because it forced her legs a little further apart. 

He ran one hand over his face as her right hand slid down her stomach. 

She teased around her outer lips a little, keeping one eye on him the whole time.  Her fingers slid between her folds easily.  Apparently that little striptease had turned her on as much as it had Logan. 

She had to close her eyes, moaning as her fingers teased around her opening, sliding up to circle her clit.  She started out slow, opening her eyes to watch him every so often:  panting, lips apart, left hand pressing against the bulge in his jeans. 

She groaned, speeding her fingers up a little, already feeling the steady pull of release calling to her.  She would normally try to hold off a few times, bring herself close and back off, but by the looks of Logan, he needed some TLC and she wanted to give it to him. 

So when her thighs started quaking, toes curling around the couch cushions, the sound of his groan was what did her in, moaning as her orgasm hit her full on, all the more intense because he was watching her. 

She panted, pulling her legs off the couch and standing on them, shaking.  She reached for the button on his jeans, undoing them quickly and coaxing him to lift his hips as she tugged them down.  Underwear next, his erection bobbing free. 

She wrapped her hand around it, pumping a few times as she climbed into his lap.  He closed his eyes and gripped her hips as tightly as he was able. She centered herself over his cock, slowly lowering herself onto it.  He moaned deep, his lips by her ear.

“God, Logan…” she keened as she started to move, her over-sensitive clit rubbing against him.

His left hand gripped her hard, guiding her movements as she fucked him, up and down, her walls clenching around him as he hit her sweet spot with each and every thrust. 

By the end, she was stationary, his hips bucking up into her and knocking her over the edge once more, a more subdued version of what she had before, but still very, very nice.  His rhythm stuttered and he grunted as he came, pulling her down into his lap as he thrust shallowly up into her.

“Fuck…” he swore as his head fell back on the back of the couch.  “Darcy…I think I love you.” 

If he could have thought of something a little more shocking to say at that exact moment, she didn’t want to know what it was.  She only knew she had to do something. Say something.  Except she was speechless. 

So she leaned forward and kissed him instead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feed the muses? Leave kudos and comments? I will love you forever if you do. <3


	8. Put It In Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, so sorry about the long wait on this update! I hope you're all still reading! :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed, cuz that's how I roll.

Darcy flopped down in the booth in the diner, the vinyl seat squeaking loudly as she slid into a sitting position. 

Logan looked up at her from across the table, taking a sip of his black coffee.  Seriously, he had a coffee problem.  He drank it all the time.  Probably had blood type “House Roast” flowing through his manly veins.

Darcy smiled at the server who slid a glass of iced tea towards her on top of a napkin. 

"Chicken salad, please," she said, ripping the paper off the straw that had been thrust into her hand. 

She sighed heavily when the server had gone with her order. 

"What's wrong?" Logan asked, setting his coffee down on the tabletop.  "Nothing I want to get into here...it's my mom..." she waved her hand flippantly, because he'd understand.  She loved her mom, but boy, could she press her buttons.  Almost immediately.  "She called me earlier, I'll fill you in later on." 

He pressed his lips together and nodded.  "Fair enough." 

The truth was...it was kind of weighing on her mind.  The conversation she'd had with her mother. 

Her brother was out of rehab.

Which, was AMAZING.  That wasn’t what she was upset about.  Not at all.  Ben was out and he was moving to the city.  It was exciting.  Even if he was a “self-destructive little turnip” as her mother had put it.

No.  No, it was the second part of her Mom’s message.  The whole, “find a new place to live because we’re giving Gram’s old place to Ben” part of the message. 

The whole REASON Darcy was able to live here in the city on HER salary, alone and without a roommate was because of Gram’s awesome rent controlled apartment in Brooklyn.  That she was subletting indefinitely.  Since Gram lived upstate at the Happy Hill Retirement Home.  The rent was a STEAL.  And the location WAS a little out of the way of Manhattan, but, no roommates. 

And now, here she was, faced down with finding both a new place to live AND roommates.  She wanted to just…go back in time and start today over.  By throwing her phone in the river and never speaking to her mother again. 

They ate their lunch in near silence, she picked at her chicken and he kept watching her, looking like he wanted to say something to her, but never saying it. 

He paid for the food, offering his hand when she slid out of the booth. 

They walked down the sidewalk towards her building.  He kissed her goodbye, holding onto her a little tighter than he normally did. 

"Stop worrying..." she chided, leaning up to peck his lips again.  "Seriously.  Nothing to worry about." 

He didn't look like he believed her.  He squeezed her again.  "I'll see ya tonight?" 

"Yep.  Tonight.  I'm cooking." 

"Can't wait..." 

* * *

 

"Darcy...I can tell somethin's bothering you..." he was swirling spaghetti around on his plate when he said it.  Garlic bread in one hand, fork in the other.   

She looked up into his eyes, smiling at what she saw there.  "It's not a huge deal, babe...just something that has me worried." 

"Your mom's alright, isn't she?  Your dad?" 

"Yeah, yeah...everyone's fine.  They just..."

He raised his eyebrows questioningly. 

She sighed, reaching for her glass of water.  As she took a sip, she tried to think of the best way to tell him she'd be moving into a place with roommates.  Because she was twenty-five years old and didn't make enough money to live on her own.  So he was going to have to deal with her idiotic roommates. 

The thing she was really worried about was whether it would draw attention to their age difference or not.  So far, it was the only thing that hadn't caused drama in their relationship.  They'd been too held up with exes and possible baby daddies and their own stupidity to worry about something as arbitrary as age.  But she really wouldn't put it past them to let something like this be the thing that finally ended them. 

She and Logan were a couple of “self-destructive little turnips”, that was for sure. 

"I just...I have to find a new place to live." 

He nodded almost indiscriminately.  "Okay." 

She chuckled, "That's all the more reaction I get?" 

He shrugged.  "I thought somethin' was wrong." 

"Well...there IS!" she insisted.  "I have to go find a new place.  With ROOMMATES." 

"You afford this place just fine." 

"Yeah...because I'm subletting it from my grandma!  She rented this place in the 80s.  With rent control.  I'm paying rent prices from before I was born. I can't afford my own place on my salary." 

He nodded, seeming to understand.  "I'll help ya lift the heavy stuff." 

She frowned. 

"When you move?" he continued, gesturing with his garlic bread that he was still using to sop up leftover spaghetti sauce from his plate. 

"You aren't as upset about this as I thought you'd be." 

"I'll help ya find a good place."

He was unbelievable.  "You don't wanna know why I have to move?" 

"Figured you'd be tellin' me." 

She sighed.  "Logan.  You are..." she shook her head, pressing her lips together.  _Unbelievable._

"Are you not gonna tell me?" 

"Yeah, I am." 

The look he shot her just then.  She wanted to climb over the table and kiss it off his face.  Slight smirk with a head tilt.  Like he knew every damn thing that was gonna come out of her mouth. 

"My brother's out of rehab..." she began. 

"Ben," he stated more than asked. 

"Yes.  And we're all very proud." 

"Mmm," he agreed, spinning a forkful of spaghetti in the pasta spoon leaning against the side of his plate.  He had surprisingly formal table manners for a contractor whose main mode of transportation was a motorcycle.  But far be it for her to stereotype. 

"But Mom wants him to have this place, because it'll be easier for her and Dad to pay for it.  Since he doesn't have a job or whatever.  And can't get one on account of the drug charges.  Not for a while, anyway." 

He nodded, slicing a meatball in half twice over and stabbing a piece with his fork. "Makes sense." 

"No.  No it doesn't..." she protested.  "It doesn't, because he's the one who is always screwing up.  And they GIVE HIM EVERYTHING.  Usually at my expense.  LITERALLY at my expense this time. Like, they are putting me out on the street this time." 

"How long do ya have to move out?" 

"There's no deadline, just...in the next few months." 

He snorted. 

"Logan.  It's not funny." 

He shrugged.  "Way I see it, Darlin'...you're gettin' put out, sure.  Ain't no doubt about that.  But...it looks like your parents are trustin' you with more.  They can toss you outta the nest and you'll fly eventually.  You'll bitch and moan for a little bit.  But you'll fly..." he scooped up the rest of the meatball, chewing it thoughtfully for a few seconds before swallowing.  "That brother of yours...he'd fall. Splat.  He ain't ready to kick outta the nest yet.  They know you'll be okay." 

"I guess..." she grumbled, trying to ignore his good natured smirk as he finished up his dinner.   

"Well...what if my roommates are annoying?" she asked. "Will I see less of you?" 

He shrugged, "Small price.  I can put up with annoying people if I get to see ya. Plus.  You forget.  I have my own place.  You're welcome there anytime." 

She felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the glass of sweet red that she'd poured herself with dinner. 

"I love you..." she blurted. 

He looked up at that.  Held her gaze for a few minutes.   

"Well it's about damn time..." He stacked his fork and spoon and knife on the plate and stood, carrying it over to the sink. 

"Really? That's what I get for loving you?" she asked, following him over to the sink and wrapping her arms around his waist.  She rested her head on his back while he rinsed off the plate and silverware under a stream of water. 

He turned in her arms, leaning down to press his lips to hers.  "You know exactly what you're gettin' into, Darlin'..." 

"You were worried, weren't you?" she asked, resting her chin on his chest so she could look straight up at him. 

"I wasn't relaxin'." 

"Logan...I told you not to worry...you can't scare me off with a pregnant ex, you aren't gonna scare me off with a few little words." 

"Those words don't scare you?  They scare the hell outta me." 

"Why?" 

"Cuz.  It means we're in this now." 

"Hate to break it to you, but we've been in this for a while." 

He leaned down to kiss her again, his hands sliding down to cup her rear end, squeezing slightly as his lips pulled at hers.  She let her hands move up his chest, rucking up his t-shirt as she went.  He shivered when her fingertips grazed his bare stomach, gliding over rippling muscle and smooth skin. 

"Logan...I need to finish the dishes..." 

"Shouldn't have started this, then..." he rumbled, nipping at her bottom lip and making her think that maybe, just maybe...the dishes could wait.  Just this once.  "I'll do 'em for ya afterwards..." he murmured against her skin.  "You'll probably be wanting to sleep..." 

"Full of yourself, aren't you?" 

He smirked, "Maybe." 

He scooped her up in his arms, carrying her back to her bedroom. 

Hands were everywhere, yanking shirts over heads, pants from hips, underwear, her bra, socks...it all ended up in a pile on the floor and they ended up crawling up the bed to the pillows. 

She laid back on one, careful not to trap her hair underneath her.  She gasped when she felt him nip at her throat.  His stubble scratched delightfully and she really REALLY wanted him to take that down south.  He was at his scratchiest in the evening and she fucking LOVED getting beard burn on her thighs. 

But he'd gotten hung up on her boobs.  Which was...turning out pretty well for her, actually.  He flicked his tongue against one stiff nipple and then the other, his hands cupping them and pushing them together.  His thumb teased the one his mouth wasn't currently and soon, she was writhing against him, whimpering and begging him for more. 

"Please..." she whispered.  "Please..." 

"Please what?" 

"I need your mouth...here..."  She pressed her hand between her thighs. 

He rolled over on his back.  The opposite direction of where she wanted him to go.  "I need you...here..." he tapped his bottom lip and waggled his eyebrows. 

She blushed.  She could feel it spreading across her face.  He'd been asking for this for weeks, and she just wasn't entirely sure…   

"I'm worried I'll smother you..." 

He shot her an incredulous look. 

"I'm sorry! Just being honest!" 

"Do I have to tell ya that ya won't smother me? Cuz you won't." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Darcy.  I'm a big boy.  I know how to tap out..." 

She relaxed a little then.  He was.  And he did.  And the idea of it really...REALLY appealed to her. 

So she nodded.  And crawled over to him.  He pulled her over so she was straddling his face. 

She inhaled sharply when she felt him prodding at her, nosing her open and then pulling her down to his lips. 

She moaned when his tongue flicked along her folds, splitting her open and exposing her clit. Her hips started to move of their own accord when he found the rhythm she liked.  He grunted and wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding her fast to his face as he licked and lapped at the sensitive nub. 

She reached up to play with her nipples, twisting them slightly and hissing at the sensation. 

"Logan..." she whimpered as he sped up once more, his beard scratching delightfully on her thighs and other…sensitive areas.  She abandoned her breasts, grasping at the headboard.  She inhaled sharply when his lips attached to her clit, sucking gently as his tongue flicked her. 

“I’m…I’m…”  her sentence slowly fell apart as she did as well. His name was the only discernible word as her belly tightened and then spasmed out of control. 

She rose up off him on shaky legs, collapsing against him as he slid up to a seated position, her legs still straddling his hips. 

“Toldya you’d like that…” he chuckled.  She swatted him half-heartedly, pushing up and off him as she rolled over onto her back. 

He followed, centering himself between her legs and pressing his lips to her throat. 

She spread her legs and gasped when he pushed inside.  She propped her legs up on the bed and gripped him between her knees as he slowly pumped his hips. 

He rolled up to hit her g-spot, his hands grasping her hips tightly.  She moaned and let her head fall back to the pillows, opening her eyes to watch him. 

Watch his face, usually so stoic, now fighting the emotions etched across it.  He gazed at her reverently, leaning down to kiss her lips as he quickened his pace. 

“Logan…” she murmured, her hands creeping up to tangle in his hair. 

His eyes were dark and intense, swallowing her whole as she felt her second release roll through her, a subdued version of the first, a warm gentleness that she could breathe through.  “I love you…” she murmured, feeling him tense and then work to catch up to his rhythm, words tumbling from his mouth as he found his end.  “Love you too…Darcy…so much…so much…” 

He lay there, still inside her for a few more minutes, just staring at her and opening his mouth a few times as if he wanted to speak, but then changing his mind and closing it. 

He kissed her once more, and slowly eased out of her, getting up and walking to the bathroom.  The water ran for a bit and he came back with a wet cloth that he handed to her, leaning down to grab his underwear and jeans off the floor as he pulled them on and left the room, mumbling about the dishes. 

Darcy cleaned herself off, deciding that a shirtless Logan doing the dishes was a sight she needed to see.  Definitely, DEFINITELY something for the old memory bank. 

She pulled on her panties and his white t-shirt, shuffling out to the kitchen to flop into a chair and watch the muscles in his back as he washed the plates and the pots. 

“You should…ya know…you should just move into my place…”  he said suddenly, not turning around. 

She was speechless.  “What?  Are you talking to me?  Or my pot holders?  Because I have a bone to pick with you if you’re gonna shack up with my pot holders.” 

He turned to look at her, smiling crookedly.  “No, I wanna shack up with you.” 

She grinned.  “Are you serious?  You want me to live with you?  I thought you were gonna sell that place.” 

He shrugged.  “We can sell it if ya want.  Buy another one that’s just ours.” 

Her breath caught in her throat and she got up, walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.  She pressed her head to his back and let out a shuddering sigh.

“That a yes?” he asked.  “Still didn’t hear a yes from you, Darlin’.” 

“Yes.  It’s a yes. And like hell you’re selling that place.  I’m in a complicated side relationship with your bathtub.” 

“S’our bathtub now.” 

“I love you.” 

“Love ya too.  Now get off me, I gotta finish this…” he turned slightly, pressing a kiss to her lips before turning back to the dishes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, this is the end, but I'm going to post an epilogue soonish to tie up any loose ends! :D And BONUS! The epilogue will be in Logan's POV! Yay!


	9. Epilogue: The Open Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end, folks. :D 
> 
> I hope you like this. No smut in this chapter, but it's the epilogue, so it doesn't count. ;) 
> 
> I tried to tie everything up here, and I hope I succeeded! :D :D :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> As promised, Logan POV.

**One Year Later...**

* * *

 

He could hear her out in the kitchen.  The clicking and scampering of Bosco's paws following her closely as she filled his bowl. 

He chuckled at her, yelping as the dog was likely pushing her into the cabinets.  He was a pushy little bastard.  That dog.    

"GET OFF MY ASS, BOSCO!!!  I CAN ONLY OPEN A CAN SO FAST, DUDE." 

Logan shut the door a little louder than was necessary and braced for the onslaught of a fifty-five-pound whirlwind in the body of a year-old Boxer-Pit mix. 

"Hey...Bosco...look!  Dad's home!"  Darcy said in an overly excited tone. 

The dog practically threw himself into his arms, a habit he'd picked up when he was a puppy.  He wasn't a puppy any longer, though.  Not in terms of weight and sheer strength.  Logan got a face-full of dog slobber before it was all over, which meant that Darcy would refuse to kiss him until he'd washed his face.  It was probably for the best, he was covered in dry-wall dust. 

Darcy plied Bosco away with his dinner, freshly poured into his bowl, and Logan ducked into the bathroom to clean up. 

He sensed her presence and turned to look at her, leaning in the doorway.  Barefoot and wearing a pair of jeans and one of his flannel shirts, tied off and knotted around her middle. 

Jesus Christ, she was beautiful.  He still expected to wake up one morning and find out it had all been a dream.  That they hadn't been together for nearly two years. 

That they weren't living together in a huge studio apartment that they'd renovated themselves.  Playing parents to a dog she'd rescued from a shelter downtown about a year before.  That she wasn't forcing him to eat better, to stop drinking so much beer. 

(He drank some green mess from a mason jar every morning on his way to work.  Tasted like what he imagined sea kelp would taste like, but damn if he didn't have more energy.)

Hipsters, her brother Ben called them, and Logan had shot him the evil eye for that.  Fuck no, Logan wasn't a hipster.  But he was in love with one, so he guessed it was just what came with the territory.

He wiped his face on the towel, tossing it in the hamper because after a day of hammering dry wall and a tongue bath from Bosco, he was pretty sure he had washed some kind of industrial adhesive from his face.

He fought the urge to just ask her right then.  The tiny little box in his pocket was burning a hole. 

Ever since he realized that it was what he wanted, he couldn't wait to pop the question.  But he had to have a ring.  And it had to be a perfect ring.  He had the green, he just had to find the rock. 

It had taken him weeks of scouring the little yuppy jewelry shops, but he'd found it.  It had a pearl in the main setting.  Little purplish blue amethysts on the band.  It was beautiful, but not as beautiful as the hand it would rest on. 

And now, he just...he had to wait for the perfect moment. 

He'd done this once before, but with Jean, it hadn't been a surprise.  It hadn't been like this.  It had been a spur of the moment, "maybe we should get married", kind of thing.  It hadn’t ever felt real.  Not even when it was ending. 

With Darcy, though?  He knew it was the real deal almost immediately.  He knew he was a goner when he found himself buying tampons and a Snickers bar at Walgreens on a Tuesday night.  For a woman he’d been casually sleeping with. 

There wasn’t a casual thing about their relationship and it took him that long to realize it.  He’d almost kicked himself.  Because this wasn’t what he’d been looking for.  Something serious right after a divorce.  Seemed like a recipe for disaster. 

Except, looking back…that thing he had with Jean hadn’t been serious.  Not when he compared it to what he had with Darcy. 

He lived and breathed for her.  His fingers knew every inch of her intimately.  Knew where to touch and how.  Could guess what she wanted, know what she liked. Her ever changing tastes in the bedroom had kept him on his toes, that was for certain. But he could touch the same expanse of skin, kiss the same lips, listen to the same cries of ecstasy for the rest of his life and never get tired of them.

He could feel the same cold feet on his legs at night.  See the same warm smile every morning.  Eat dinner across from the same beautiful face every night.  And never get tired of them.     

He had been planning the proposal. He knew what he was gonna say, knew how he was gonna say it.  And he was pretty sure she'd say yes. 

But his heart was still in his throat.  Beating louder than anything. 

"Hey Darlin'...you wanna go out tonight?"  

Her eyebrows shot up.  "For real?  Huh. Well, I haven't started dinner yet...so that sounds perfect…gimme a minute to get ready.” 

“S’nowhere fancy or anything.” 

“Hey listen…nowhere fancy is what I need, because I love you, Babe…but I’m only doing lipstick and eyeliner tonight.  I am wiped.” 

“We can stay home if ya want…” 

“Nope.  No.  I’ve been pulling ten-hour days at the lab…getting Jane ready for her trip…I need a night out.  I need a beer.  I need shitty hot wings.” 

He snorted. “I know just the place.” 

* * *

 

He took her to the place they’d first met.  A noisy dive.  A hole in the wall.  Peanut shells on the floor. 

On the floor that he was now kneeling on.  Ring box open and held out to her. 

Her eyebrows raised, her hand covered her mouth.  She blinked back a few tears. 

“Yeah…so anyway…I guess I’m just wonderin’ if you’d like to get married sometime…” he almost didn’t get it out.  He almost laughed in the middle of it.  Almost.  He hoped she’d get it.  The reference to the first thing she’d ever said to him.  That first sentence that had him spinning in his barstool and giving her the once over.  Trying to see if she was drunk, because it was honestly the only reason a woman like her would give a man like him the time of day.  Or at least, that’s what he’d thought at the time. 

She laughed, a few of those tears slipping down her cheeks as she nodded her head, whispering “yes” over and over again as he slipped the ring on her finger.  She wound her arms around his neck amongst the clapping and whooping from the patrons of the bar.  

It was difficult to hear, but he could definitely make out what she was whispering in his ear as he held her close.   

“Kaythanksbye…”    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos? I loved writing this and I am thrilled with the response. I will definitely revisit this pairing again in the future. I had so much fun! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://dresupi.tumblr.com)


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